Harry of the Sith
by Tridentwatch
Summary: Harry learns arcane magic from Dumbledore while Voldemort meditates and contacts Darth Maul, persuading him to kill Palpatine and come to Earth. The Jedi think Palpatine is innocent and hunt Darth Maul for revenge. Harry starts to crush on Tonks.
1. Chapter 1

**_Harry of the Sith_**

**_Chapter One: The Call of the Wild _**

Darth Maul stood, laughing over the death of Qui Gonn Jinn. "Pathetic Jeddi, I showed you the meaning of true power, not the laughable jedi tricks but the true power of the SITH!" He roared his alleigeance to one and all.

Obi Wan Kenobi, hands shaking around his light saber, ran forward to meet his new foe. What happened was an intense light saber duel, where both relied on instincts and the force to guide them.

It ended.

Darth Maul was grieveously injured, and bleeding hard. Obi Wan Kenobi was dead, a red duel light saber thrust into his gut.

Darth Maul lifted out the light saber of Qui Gon Jinn that Obi Wan had managed to get during the duel and pulled it out of his shoulder with a hiss of pain. Anger and hatred fuelled his mind.

He turned and looked across the sandy plains, at the boy, the boy with immense power.

Darth Maul was fatally wounded and knew he wouldn't live out the night.

"Come here," he said to the boy, adding what meager strength he had to use the force to get the boy to obey his commands.

The boy came.

"What's your name?"

"Anakin Skywalker, sir," the boy answered, his eyes stormy with fear.

"Good. Give me your hands."

Anakin placed his hands palm outward.

Darth Maul put his own hands on Anakin's palms and wondered what he was doing. He was in a confused delirious state but he was following the will of the force. The force told him to do this, gave him hidden knowledge long lost for a technique that he had never heard of.

It was horrible.

Even Darth Maul cringed at it's evilness.

But the dark side was insistent. 'You have to do this if you want to survive' it said.

Darth Maul obeyed and closed eyes, feeling the dark side of the force glow within him with terribly potent energy.

Then he sucked.

Anakin screamed in pain, in blinding pain, as he felt all his life force sucked out of him.

His very soul energy was being taken, stolen by the Sith lord.

Darth Maul felt a humungoes surge of power travel up his spine. He had never felt better! His wounds healed instantly. He felt like a god.

He watched as Anakin shriveled up, his skin turning wrinkly and his eyes took on a flat dull yellow color that spoke of ill health. Still Darth Maul pushed.

The dark side of the force wanted this, was insistent on this.

Darth Maul shuddered but did not hesitate.

That day… he had done the impossible. He had sucked the very force out of the boy, leaving a crumpled disfigured heap lying on the ground. He had never known such a thing was possible.

It had been lost knowledge, lost by the greatest of Sith lords, hidden through the millennia of shadows and secrets.

And Darth Maul found it.

Or rather, the force gave it to him as a gift.

But Maul knew that the dark side never gave gifts.

He had a new task, a task that the very essence of the dark forced him to do.

He took the ship nearby, Qui Gon's ship, and with ease he killed the pilot with his light saber.

He had never felt better. He was alive, in a new way, in a way that made him thrum with powerful energy, that made his whole being sing with the dark side of the force. He whistled, a slow melancholy tune that was haunting and mind boggling. It had a harmonical tune, for sure, but it was something different.

It was an ode to the boy who saved his life unwillingly. Tears rolled down Darth Maul's still stoic face as he hummed and whistled the tune that seemed to strike at the very heart of all that Darth Maul held precious.

Ties between his master, Palpatine, or rather, Darth Sideous, broke instantly.

Ties to the so called Sith order fell apart like a castle of cards.

Darth Maul was no more a sith.

He was merely a servant, a servant to the greatest power in creation: the very essence of darkness.

This was the sith enlightenment, which was a myth, a legend, where a Sith Dark Lord would disappear into the Force, totally in.

It was risky.

To die before you die.

Darth Maul was dead.

He needed a new name now and the only name that seemed fitting was one:

"I am your servant," he said to the darkness that swirled around him, that threatened to engulf him alive.

"I am your disciple. I am yours, darkness!"

A voice whispered in his ear. A seductive voice, a voice of a demon, a voice of a god.

"Your name shall be Darth Challix!"

The Sith sighed and now at that moment he was no more a Sith, no more part of any organization, of any label.

Now he was only darkness, at one with it, at one with the essence of the force.

He had reached his enlightenment and he had never expected it to feel so very good… so euphoric and happy.

He could understand compassion now, he could understand the jedi, and he could understand the hate of the Sith, but he was beyond that. He was at one with the force, and with a lightning bolt realization he realized that there was no light and Dark.

A haunting voice whispered from the depths of darkness called to him.

"There is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it."

Red eyes glowed in his dreams.

He started the whistling tune again, a mourning funeral for the Chosen One who would bring balance.

He had brought balance… in one person. And that was enough. That was all the force wanted or needed from Anakin Skywalker.  
He sang the ode with tears in his eyes.  
An ode to what might have been the greatest Jedi or the greatest Sith alive.

But Darth Maul stole Anakin's power, his soul, and for that he was tainted with the dark completely.

He was the servent of the dark, in such a way that no Sith would ever try.

He had become one with the darkness. He was a true dark lord and he knew exactly what he had to do, what the force commanded him to do.

He could not disobey. After the force had saved his life, saved him and made him stronger, made him new and better and gave him such a fountain of power, he could not disobey.

------

He reached Crousacnt a few days later and acted quickly, sneaking into Chancellor Palpatine's office with utmost skill.

Of course Darth Sideous already sensed his presence and turned around in his immense luxurious office, sneering.

"Why have you came, Darth Maul?"

"To kill you," was his only reply and then Darth Maul let go, and let darkness fill him. He fell into a deep sleep and when he awoke he realized he was covered in blood. But it was not his blood.

Darth Sideous was dead. And it wasn't Darth Maul who had done it.

It was the hidden one, the one cloaked in the shadows of darkness, the true Sith Lord who would not reveal his identity.

Darth Maul was no more.

Darth Challix had done this deed.

Darth Challix, the apprentice.

"What is your name, my master?" asked Darth Challix, who had once been Lord Maul. But that seemed like ages ago, that seemed like a dream.

He was Darth Challix now. He liked that name though he did not know what it meant. Maul meant to be a fighter.

What did Challix mean?

The voice answered in a whisper, "It means to serve. Are you ready to serve me, the only true lord of darkness?"

Challix answered, "Yes."

"You can call me Lord Voldemort," said a voice in his mind, a voice filled with potent energy, and wisdom.

"Tell me about you."

"I live on a far away planet in the outer rims. It is quite primitive to your technology. You must seek me out. The planet is blue… we call it Earth. Come to me, my apprentice, and I shall show you the true meaning of darkness."

Darth Challix bowed his head, and answered the call.

Darth Challix knew he had to get out of here fast before the security guards caught wind of his action. He hadn't really defeated Darth Sideous. His master... Lord Voldemort... he had acted through him to defeat the weakling.

Darth Challix laughed, he laughed out loud and heartily. He had finally found someone who knew of his potential, who knew of his power and who was willing to teach him in the ways of true darkness. His body tingled with anticipation as he wondered what Lord Voldemort would look like.

The man was obviously one of great power to be able to telepathically communicate to Darth Maul like that. No, not Maul, he reminded himself bitterly. I have a new name now, a better name, because I have been reborn in the Force, in the Force that none had ever ventured into. Sure, the Sith knew of the dark side, but they were simply toddlers in the swimming pool, not an athlete. He remembered in his home planet how he loved to swim and swim for hours in the lake besdies his cottage. He sighed at the nostalgia but immediately brightened up. What would Earth look like? Lord Voldemort was probably the master of Earth, probably the ruler of it.

Darth Challix was sure that Lord Voldemort was a man of supreme power, perhaps the most powerful being in the universe. His heart raced as he anticipated their first meeting. He knew immediately he had found the treasure of his life, and he was content in forever serving his master in whatever capacity he could.

He felt tendrils of dark force roam around him and the captivating and hypnotic voice of his Lord and Master called to him from the shadows, "Run! Run my friend, to my home planet. You must flee! The others are after you, after your blood."

Then everything became silent. He used the Force to try to contact his master but he could not get a hold of him. He did not have such power as to communicate vast distances, across planets, across stars.

Lord Voldemort had hidden himself in the outer rim, perhaps he was as old as Yoda, perhaps he was as young as himself. Darth Challix did not know anything about Voldemort, and the mystery that surrounded his new Lord, but he was eager to find out. He stood to his feet shakily, awakening fully from his slumber.

With a shocking realization he found out that he wasn't the one to kill Darth Sideous. It was Voldemort, channelling his energy through Darth Challix. Darth Challix had no memory of beating the most fearsome Sith he had ever encountered, until now. Lord Voldemort was a god compared to Darth Sideous.

Darth Challix laughed again, this time in a state of sublime joy and happiness. He had finally found his true master and in that moment he felt happy, fulfilled, contented. He did not feel the utter burning rage in his heart. It had been dampened by the presence of Lord Voldemort's power.

No good or evil.

Only Power.

And those too weak to seek it.

Darth Challix was not weak. He would find Voldemort. He would seek the power and none would stand in his way on his quest to Earth.

Not even the Jedi that had flung themselves into the room.

Darth Challix stood up to his feet again, this time looking stronger and more confident. This was a test. Voldemort would not help him again.

"Stop right there, Sith demon!" shouted Mace Windu. "You are under arrest."

Darth Challix smirked, and let loose his duel light saber. The red light glowed in the dark room, the room that was filled to the brim with the evil energy of Lord Voldemort.

"Do you think you can challenge me?" scoffed Darth Challix. "I am the apprentice of the greatest Sith master who has ever been, who ever will be."

"You are under arrest," Mace said stoically. "Halt, and relieve yourself of your weapons immediately or I will have to use force."

Darth Challix chuckled. He charged.

Mace took out his light saber and flung the blade toward the red saber of his enemy. Darth Challix felt faster, stronger than he had ever been when he had sucked the soul energy of Anakin Skywalker, the supposed chosen one. He easily matched Mace's saber abilities with fluid form, a form he had never known, as if Voldemort's hand was upon his hand, guiding his every action. He felt at peace for the first time, and anger and hatred dissolved into a cold apathy. Only his lord mattered now.

He felt himself slipping into a trance like state as he battled the skilled jedi. As they duelled, with sabers meeting sabers, Darth Challix used his force abilities to push Mace into the wall. He marvelled at his new strength but then felt a sudden stab in his right shoulder.

He looked around, whirling to see another sight greet his eyes.

"Dark, you have become, fearsome you have transformed into," Yoda said. "But you are no match for the holy abilities of the Jedi."

Darth Challix sneered, and used his Force ability to push Yoda into the wall as well. He marvelled at his new found skill with the force. This was power, this was true power.

Before the two jedi were able to recouver Darth Challix was long gone. Even though he had power beyond his belief, he could feel it slowly ebbing away. The borrowed power of Anakin's innate potential was gradually being reduced. With a frightening realization he began to see that the power would not last long.

It was fading away.

Darth Challix knew that with all his formidable skill he would not be able to defeat the two master jedi crumpled on the floor. They were already recouvering.

He had to run.

He ran hard through the halls of the building, and anyone who stood in his way he used the force to bludgeon them to the wall, unworried about what damage he caused.

He was beyond compassion.

He was also beyond hate.

A cold apathy settled over him, a coolness the likes of which he had never known before.

"I am watching you," said Voldemort from the corners of his mind. "Show me your strength apprentice."

Darth Challix grinned and hurried through the hallways. He met two security guards with blasters pointing straight at him. They shot at rapid pace but the apprentice easily blocked the blaster shots with his saber and gutted them both with lightning speed. Before he knew it he was at the hanger deck overlooking a variety of ships at his disposal. Engineers and mechanics floundered around but stopped in surprise when they looked at the fiersome appearance of the Sith Lord.

Darth Challix grinned and caught the sleeve of a running mechanic. "Show me the way to the best ship you have. Immediately! I need only a small ship to get me many light years away from here."

The mechanic nodded, his moustache quivvering in fear. His brown eyes were filled with terror. He led Darth Challix to a gleaming ship that was small enough to accomodate no more than five passengers at the most.

Luckily Darth Challix knew how to pilot the ship. He ran into the cockpit and instantly slaughtered the two pilots and threw their bodies down on the floor. He climbed in the control booth and locked down the ship's doors. Nobody would be able to come in here, not without using excessive force.

Suddenly a platoon of security guards entered the hanger bay, blasters at their ready. They saw Darth Challix and started firing at the ship's hull.

Darth Challix used the force to cast a protective shield around the ship and hurriedly flipped the controls, fired the buttons that would start the hyperdrive. The sky was overhead, eager to be explored.

Freedom, thought Darth Challix as he let the ship push off into space.

For ten minutes nobody was at his back, no ships chasing him, nothing.

He was out of Cruscent's orbit before he realized that yes, ships were chasing him. But they were cloaked in invisibility shields. And what was worse, they were jedi ships. Darth Challix could sense the jedi with the Force which gave him an immense clarity.

He had to get out of here.

He had to follow the will of the force, which told him he must go to Lord Voldemort.

That was where he would find true power.

-------------

Harry sat on his bed, tears in his eyes. His godfather had just died and he didn't want to cry but tears fell anyways. Luckily nobody was there in his dorm to bother him. He gripped his wand tightly and knowing he could not spend the time moping, knowing he could not feel sorry for himself just because of the prophecy, he decided to do something.

He had to train, hard. He had to defeat Voldemort using any means necessary and that meant duelling. He had to be the best dueller Hogwarts had ever seen and for that he needed focus and study and hard work.

He got out of his bed and took a quick shower to clean himself up, to let the tears flow unbidden.

He promised himself it was the last time he would cry for his godfather. From now on there would be no tears. Just an icy feeling of determination and anger that infused his very soul.

He had to kill Lord Voldemort.

He had to become a murderer, a living human weapon whose sole objective was to murder, to kill or be killed.

The prophecy's words repeated itself in his mind. With a sigh, he changed into his Hogwarts uniform. He still had classes but he would not show up to them anymore.

No more classes or exams. Let it all burn to hell for what he cared.

Luckily he knew just the place to go to train, to train without stopping, without crying. He had to train himself mercilessly, use all his focus and energy to reach the point where he would match Voldemort in a duel and then kill him.

He had a lot of work to do in his life. He had only two more years in Hogwarts and after that, he had to find some other ways to get powerful.

A thought rung in his mind, unbidden. It came from his first year when he had first met Lord Voldemort.

There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it.

Harry gulped a bitter taste in his mouth and he picked up his invisibility cloak from his trunk and wandered down the halls of the empty corridors.

It was dead night, and all was silent and stilled. He reached the room of requirement and opened the door, willing a duelling arena to show up and a library of books to help him become the best dueller the world had ever seen.

Sure he might need a tutor, a teacher to help him. But for now, he had to do this himself. He had to study all the ways of magic himself, to become powerful enough to stop Voldemort once and for all.

He thought of Ron and Hermione and Ginny.

He would fight, he would give himself to the war wholeheartedly with no holding back.

With a regretful sigh he realized he had no time for friendship anymore, no time for quidditch, no time for playing gobstones with Fred and George or chess with Ron.

He had to focus. He had to become the best.

So he trained.

All night. He read through the books, looking at each spell in detail and he practiced and practiced for hours until he was covered in sweat.

Then he willed an armchair to appear, and exhausted he sank down within it's cushions and went to sleep.

He dreamt:

There was a ship... a gleaming silver ship and it was being chased by other ships.

He looked inside the gleaming silver ship and saw a cruel face belonging to an unnatural looking person... an alien!

Then he woke up, his scar bleeding. He had a huge headache and he clenched his eyes shut willing it to go away. But the torture lasted even though the bleeding stopped. He sank back into sleep, too exhausted to care, too exhaused to inform Dumbledore about his vision which was undoubtedly from Voldemort's mind judging by the hammer like pain in his scar.

The next day he did not attend classes but continued to train, continued to master new spells in the room of requirement.

The time for fun was over.

His childhood was gone. He was now a man, borne through the fire of despair and torture, born through the chilling truth of the prophecy.

And as a man, he had no time for school children.

He was on a serious mission to practice his magic, to hone it into a weapon with only one purpose: to kill Lord Voldemort.

Next chapter: A meeting with the Order to discuss how to deal with the newly reincarnated Dark Lord... Darth Challix's journey as he is chased by a fiersome group of jedi intent on revenge for his murders of their beloved chancellor, and their Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn, as well as his padawan Obi Wan, and the Chosen One: Anakin Skywalker.


	2. Chapter 2

_Harry of the Sith_

* * *

Author: Tridentwatch

**Chapter Two: Grindelwauld's return **

* * *

There it was, thought Albioni as he stared up at the bright blue sky. Finally I see daylight, he thought, and then he looked behind him at the cavern from which he had trudged out of, a cavern that was dark and ominous and had been for the last ten years a prison for poor Albioni.

The man was a thief and a murderer, true, a rascal for sure, a cunning little devil, perhaps but he was still a human being and no human being should be faced with the isolation, the darkness, the damp fungus and the scurry creatures that ranged from rodents to serpents in the Prison of Labaro. It was the Emperor's personal prison for those who displeased him.

Albioni shivered in the cold air, and drew his black cloak around him all the tighter, wishing it wasn't so tattered or dirty. He took another glance back, hoping in his heart it would be his last, and then he ran off into the forest.

The forest was dark and damp, but it had a freshness to it, a quality of life and hope and infinite happiness. It was the very anthitheses of the evil prison Albioni had been a victim to, and as such Albioni enjoyed the walk in the forest. He was unconcerned about gaurds. The Prison of Labaro was the most famed in the world, mostly because it had no guards and all prisoners were tied to their prison with magical binds and wards.

Albioni smirked, thinking of his great escape as he bent down to pick up some white mushrooms. They would make a good snack. As it was he was malnourished and underfed, almost tortured by the hopelessness, by the dark stench of black magic that seemed to pervade the prison. He chewed the mushrooms slowly, enjoying the rubbery oily taste of the snack. It was a welcome change to his usual diet of tasteless gruel.

He sat at the base of the tree, and while eating the mushrooms he closed his eyes and started to meditate. It had been so long since he had truly reached a deep meditative state. Ten years ago, when he was a free man, meditation had been a passion, a hobby, a place of solitude. The prison had corrupted that, had made it impossible for him to sink in the deepness of his mind, through the tunnels of his heart and into the sky of his soul.

But now here he was, free to do as he pleased, free to eat his mushrooms and free to close his eyes and sink his back against the trunk of the oak tree. He finished chewing them and just as he started to relax his body, started to whisper in his mind his mantra, he felt some force building up within his belly, a burning fire. He frowned but continued to focus on the mental repetition of his mantra, chanting in his mind, 'Aima Aima Aima…'

The feeling faded, and he was pleased to find his hands numb. That was the first sign of his meditation deepening. From memory he recalled that his legs would be next to join in the numbness, then his arms, then his face, and finally the tiny muscles surrounding his eyeballs. After that his body was just a rock and he was a hovering spirit floating around his body. This was level two.

But something was strange today, and he immediately realized that he was not meditating, he was flying. He felt a buzzing, like that of a bee, inside his brain and felt euphoric and extremely happy. His head was a well of bliss and his eyes tingled with pleasure. What in the world was going on, he wondered. Is this normal? The answer was no. Albioni had never experienced this before in his life. But he liked the feeling, he liked how his body felt so sensitive to the moss he was sitting on and the bark of wood pushing against his back as he leaned harder, letting his arms splay out in an effortless gesture. He spread his legs slowly, in a relaxed and effortless manner and then he just let his eyes close on their own and enjoyed.

It was a delightful experience, one which he could not describe in words for there were no words in his experience, only pictures, images, but they did not use just the sight sense. They could be called visions because he experienced these images through five of his six senses. His sense of balance was noticeably off in these dream-like visions. He saw a multitude of vastly beautiful scenery from empty rolling sands of endless deserts to oceans of blue and gray water churning against the rocks, to the sky, a dark sky filled with thousands upon thousands of stars. He saw the heavens, and the mythical creatures residing in them like how his mother had enthralled him with the stories of such things.

He felt and saw and did, sometimes having visions of being a bird flying through the endless sky. Slowly, slowly the high faded, and he was sober again, but it was dark and many hours had passed.

They were the most exquisite hours of his life and upon doing some thinking he came to the conclusion that it was the mushrooms that had caused these visions. He gathered the rest of the mushrooms that grew on the ground at the base of the tree, and conjured a wool sack with the use of his magic. He hadn't done magic in so long, but when he performed the conjuration charm it was like visiting an old friend, it was like having a hot cup of tea in the midst of a winter storm while seeping in the warmth of a comfortable home. Magic was what Albioni had been missing all his ten years of incarceration at the prison and when it came back to him, responding as eagerly as a bright eyed child, he responded in kind. His face lit up in a smile, a true smile of pure joy and happiness when the charm worked.

The visions he had experienced were delightful, but they were painful as well. They were the projections of his inner chaos and having it shown to him akin to a mirror was simply… disgusting in a way. In another way, it was beautiful because he retained one image, one image of excuisite beauty and vastness.

It was that of a desert, a vast endless desert where the sand rolled in an endless plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was a dark desert, lit only by thousands upon thousands of brilliant stars twinkling in the sky. Albioni thought it was the grandest, most beautiful sight he had ever seen and even though it only existed in his mind's eye, he treasured it all the more.

Fire raced through the forest, interrupting Albioni from his sleep. He smelt the churning scent of burning leaves, and he instantly knew he was in danger. With the instincts of a lion he knew the forest fire would consume him should he fail to escape the natural disaster. So he transformed into his animagus form – a lion, a golden lion that was as tall as a man, thin but sinewy with the characteristic strength of the king of the jungle.

Growling and snarling, baring his teeth, the lion that used to be a man leapt away and ran off into the distance, away from the smoke and the flames that he left behind. The woolen sack of mushrooms hung from his neck.

Albioni Grindelwauld… a dark lord… had escaped Italy's prison and was free, free to do what he wanted and free to seek retribution against the man who had betrayed him: Albus Dumbledore.

He knew of the legend of the Boy Who Lived, of course, seeing as newspapers were delivered every day to his cell. In international news, Harry Potter caught little attention. But Albioni had poured over the little news of the boy with a deep fascination and interest. It was time to pay the young lad a visit.

It was time to meet the winner of the Tri-wizard tournament. The ultimate revenge, to corrupt Albus Dumbledore's golden boy.

The lion roared and the sky responded with thunder and lightning and a torrent of rain, quenching the flames behind him.

And the lion leapt into the air, unfurling wings that no lion species possessed. For Albioni's form was not that of a lion exactly, but something else… something startling and new and exciting.

Albioni Grindelwauld was one of a kind.

And so was Harry Potter.

-------

Darth Challix was very tired. He had been fighting the Jedi for the past week in his ship, dodging their weapons and evading his pursuers but it seemed to be useless. The Jedi were out for revenge and would not give up, not when they finally had a chance to fight the long extinct Sith again. It seemed the Jedi were bloodthirsty, nothing like the serene and tranquil warriors they were supposed to be.

Despite his exhaustion, he grinned. His ship was approaching the outer rims, Tatooine, and it wouldn't be long before he would make it to Earth. But he knew he could never let the Jedi follow him there. Lord Voldemort had made it clear in their mental conversations what would happen should the Jedi find him before he was ready, should the Jedi take the Sith master by surprise.

Darth Challix did not want to be subject to his Lord's tortures again. He shuddered when he thought about that night, a few days ago when he had dared question his master's orders. His master had told him to land on Tatooine, and take the Jedi on by himself, at least fifteen to one, and after killing all his pursuers, then he was supposed to go to Earth.

Darth Challix argued, and the dark lord ripped through his mind using the dark side of the Force. It was nothing like Darth Challix had ever experienced before, as all his painful memories were brought to the surface, as all his sufferings were thrust upon him again. He had been forced to relive every single torture he had ever experienced in his life… over and over again for hours on end.

From that point on, Darth Challix never dared question Lord Voldemort's commands again, but in his heart of hearts he knew he wouldn't be able to take fifteen Jedi on.

Fifteen Jedi knights… and their padawans. That made a total of thirty. Darth Challix was weak as it was after his fight with Qui Gon, and most of the Force that he had sucked out of Anakin Skywalker was disappearing. He knew he wouldn't be able to win that fight.

"This is a test you fool," roared a voice in his mind, a demonic merciless voice. "I shall not take on a weak apprentice. You must use all your cunning and power to defeat these pathetic Light sided warriors, and if you fail the test you are not worthy."

"I shall do as you command," Darth Challix said, mentally bowing in submission. As if he had a choice, he thought, grimacing. Palpatine had never been this cruel. The previous Sith Lord could simply not compare to Lord Voldemort. With another grimace, Darth Challix ordered the ship's computer to pick a landing site… right at Jabba the Hut's hanger deck. Hopefully he could become allies with the Hutt but he doubted it. Those creatures hated anyone who showed even the slightest bit of power, as they would view such beings as a threat.

But if he explained that thirty jedi warriors, the best in the galaxy, were on their way to Tatooine to take out the Hutt's forces, perhaps… just perhaps he could win the fight, pass the test.

With a grudging sigh, he went into the ship's kitchens and prepared a sandwich and some Correvar tea. The Correvar tea was from a very small planet buried in some anonymous sector in the galaxy, and the only thing they had to export that was of any value was this tea. Darth Challix had a whole tin of it, enough to last him at least a thousand cups. A simple cup of this tea would rejuvenate him, and hopefully make him ready for the fight.

"Interesting concotion," Lord Voldemort hissed in his mind, "I too have similar potions at my disposal. Make sure to bring me a sample, or you will regret your failure."

Great, thought Darth Challix, more commands. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already. He sipped the tea and winced at it's bitter taste, but he instantly felt the Force replenish itself within his body, and he sank deep into the dark side, focusing on the emotion he most adored… hate. He bled into the hate, letting his soul sink into it like he was a drowning man. It energized him, and along with the tea, he sank effortlessly into a meditation where he focused his hate to a sharpness, to a razor's edge.

It was his most powerful weapon, as powerful as his light saber, perhaps more so. And he would use it, along with his cunning, along with his force abilities. Darth Challix would be creative, innovative, and as swift to strike as the desert snakes that made their home on Tatooine's sands.

As the ship landed, he went to the control booth to scout out the Jedi ships, and along with the force, he discovered that they were a few thousand miles behind him. If they activated their hyperdrive rings they would reach Tatooine within minutes but they would not know his location on the planet. So they would manually fly the ship to Darth Challix's landing spot.

Darth Challix drove the ship toward Jabba's hanger deck, having been here already once before. He ignored the alarms that beeped with frenzy as he illegally landed on the metal deck of Jabba's personal army of ships.

He opened the latch of the door, and strode out, his black cloak flipping behind him. He was met with the business end of a dozen blasters, held by Jabba's assassins and hired hit men. "You will come with us now," said the leader, a man whom Darth Challix recognized as Jango Fett.

Darth Challix nodded, and mentally asked Voldemort for instructions on how to handle the situation but he was met with dead silence. So he followed Jango Fett and let his men surround him, flanking him. They took him through a labyrinth of metal hallways, a maze of technology that equaled the best of Crueascant's technology. Darth Challix was amazed at the Hutt's wealth and instantly on guard, because he knew the Hutt would not be fooled by what he had to say. He had to either be cunning, or fight, and he did not want to fight the Hutt on top of the Jedi. There was no way he would survive. Already he dreaded his life expectancy. And this fear he used, to get deeper into the dark side of the force.

He prepared himself for the inevitable battle.

-------

Notes: I am just trying to write simple, easy to read chapters that flow really nicely. Don't worry soon we shall come to Harry Potter, who is currently getting secret training from Albus Dumbledore. And now with Grindelwauld in the game, there are three Lords: Albus Dumbledore the Light Lord, Lord Voldemort the Dark Lord, and Grindelwauld the Grey Lord. These are merely expressions to indicate their personalities and where their abilities lie. Since I am mixing in two vast worlds, Star Wars and Harry Potter, this fic will be very... oceanic in it's focus. That is to say, it will span many characters and spawn many subplots. Anyways enjoy this chapter and please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three: Harry's training

Harry Potter trudged up to the headmaster's office, exhausted after his hour run around Hogwarts. He was living in the school castle over the summer because Albus had told him that not even Privet Drive was safe anymore. Harry and Voldemort shared the same blood so the blood wards wouldn't keep the dark lord out. It was fine by Harry because he did not even want to return to Privet Drive. He liked Hogwarts, he felt safe in the castle, and at home, at ease, at peace. He could keep practicing magic here. Albus in fact had reccemended he increase his magic knowledge, and his dueling skills and even offered private training sessions which Harry happily accepted.

So here he was, going in for his first training session with Albus Dumbledore himself, supposedly the greatest living wizard in Britain. Harry couldn't help but be excited, and a little bit scared at the prospect. What if he was not good enough? He had only just finished fourth year, and he hadn't even taken the exams for the year because he was a school champion for the Tri wizard tournament. But he doubted he would have been able to pass it. He practically learnt nothing that year, because he had been so stressed. Dumbledore recommended exercise and meditation and he had eagerly tried to apply these two techniques to calm him down… it worked somewhat, but he had been getting nightmares from his duel with Voldemort and from Cedric Diggory's death, no, murder.

"Come in, Harry," Albus's voice called before Harry had a chance to knock. Harry entered, and grinned when he saw the utter wonderful display of magical objects and items that clustered the shelves and the books and parchments scattered around. The office was a mess but it seemed homely, not at all scary like Harry first thought.

He turned to look at Albus and noticed with a worried look that the old man appeared very tired, as if he hadn't been sleeping or eating enough, and not only that but the cheerful twinkle in his bright blue eyes was gone, replaced by a dull weariness.

"Are you okay sir? You look pretty exhausted," Harry said, "I mean, I know Voldemort is back and all but that shouldn't stop you from taking care of yourself."

"I could say the same for you, Harry," Albus said with a grin, "You haven't been sleeping enough either. Are the nightmares still bothering you?"

"Everyday, sir," Harry answered truthfully with a grimace. "I can handle it though, because the meditation trick you taught me works enough to get me drowsy… then I can get a few hours of sleep. But sir, why can't I use the dreamless sleep potion?"

Dumbledore sighed as he stroked his long gray beard, "It's addictive," he said and he would not say more on the subject. They stayed silent for a few moments, lost in their own respective thoughts before Dumbledore gently prodded, "How's your occlumency?"

"It's coming sir," Harry said, "Snape's a horrible teacher but I am getting the hang of it, I think."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore absentmindedly corrected as he peered through his half moon glasses at a piece of parchment he was holding. "Oh no," he said, gasping.

"What, what is it? Is it about Voldemort?" Harry asked, alarmed.

Dumbledore swallowed. "Grindelwauld," he said.

"What?" Harry asked in confusion. "The old dark lord that you supposedly defeated?"

"Defeated, but not killed," Dumbledore said, "He's escaped from Italy's prison. He was there for ten years, and before that he was in Azkaban. How in the world did he escape…"

"Could it be Voldemort?" asked Harry, "He seems the type to get dark wizards on his side." Harry nervously chuckled, his eyes worried.

Dumbledore sighed mightily and said, "Another problem, I am simply exhausted Harry. I'm afraid we will have to postpone your dueling sessions for another day."

"But sir-" Harry protested.

Dumbledore cut him off, "I am an old man, Harry, and I have many responsibilities. With Lord Voldemort back, I don't think I can spare the time to train you personally, especially since Grindelwuald has somehow managed to break out of one of the most secure prisons in the world."

"Well you can defeat him again, can't you?" asked Harry, "I mean you're the greatest wizard in the world and even Voldemort's scared of you."

Dumbledore almost looked pleased.

With some cunning, Harry continued, "If you train me, we can be an unbeatable team, and I will need all the training I can get to survive. Don't you understand sir, my life hangs in the balance…"

"Yes, you're right," Dumbledore admitted resigned to more work, "I suppose I can spare a few minutes to teach you a spell or two."

Harry grinned, "Brilliant sir," he said, taking out his wand.

"You know the patronus charm, right?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded. He continued, "Well what I am going to teach you is a variation of the charm. It's a messenger patronus charm and while it can work against dementors it is very weak. All it does is carry a message."

"How do you cast it sir?"

"Expecto Messangus Patronum," Dumbledore said, waving his wand in a corkscrew direction and a jet of silver light burst out, revealing a bumblebee of silvery substance. "Tell Harry I said hello."

The patronus bumblebee raced straight at Harry, who leapt from his chair in an attempt to dodge. But the bumblebee ran straight through his chest and Harry heard the words echo in his mind, "Hello…"

"Brilliant sir," Harry said with a grin and repeated the spell.

He practiced the spell all day in the library, and soon mastered it. He sent Dumbledore a message at dinner, saying, "I've got the spell. What's next, sir?"

"Come to my office," Dumbledore said, with his own bumblebee patronus reaching Harry within a few minutes.

Harry smiled happily and raced off, eager to learn another spell from what he assumed to be the greatest wizard in the world.

But he was wrong.

Grindelwauld was by far the better wizard.

And Dumbledore knew it. He had won the last battle through trickery and deceit but he wasn't sure he would win the next one.

However he was happy in his knowledge that Voldemort and Grindelwauld would never ally themselves to each other. They were too prideful, too egomaniacal to think of themselves as anything but superior to all those around them.

Dumbledore chuckled when he had a funny thought… what if Voldemort and Grindewauld would start fighting each other?

And he was right. In the coming days his prediction would prove to be true, so true that Dumbledore would wonder if he didn't have some seer blood in him.

-----

Please review!

----

Yes you, I mean you individually, review!


	4. Chapter 4

Some ideas to consider… after this story is finished how about a sequel where harry enters an alternate dimension where Ron weasley is the boy who lived… just a thought after I finish the current plots of this story… anyways back to the chapter at hand.

CHAPTER FOUR: VOLDEMORT'S RECRUITS

HARRY OF THE SITH

BY TRIDENTWATCH

* * *

Darth Challix waited under the presence of Jabba the Hutt. The creature was an ugly monstrosity, filled with dark manevolent energies surrounding him, not that Challix particularly minded. He drew on the negativity that permeated Jabba and used it to reinforce his own strength.

"What brings you here Jedi?" growled Jabba the Hutt, surrounded by his body guards. The most powerful being Mara Jade and Jango Fett.

Darth Challix bowed. "I am no Jedi, I am a Sith Lord."

This was met with shocked gasps from all around.

"A sith lord?" chortled Jabba the Hutt. "What in the name-"

"It is true, I am a sith. Would you like a demonstration?"

Jabba smirked and said, "Yes I would in fact, show him to the Arena. Let him keep his weapons and see how he fares with our creatures."

Darth Challix willingly allowed himself to be escorted to a hot sandy pit, surrounded by benches and stands where nobles from all over the galaxy, rich corrupt merchants, and bounty hunters and criminals watched, jeering at the Jedi who claimed he was a Sith.

The sith lord activated his duel red light saber, and waited. Out of the Arena, a cage opened, revealing a hideous troll like beast that charged at Darth Challix. The Sith Lord was by far not even the least scared of it. He waited until the troll, who welded two gigantic wooden clubs, came near him and then using the dark side of the force he plunged his light saber into the troll's neck with surprising speed, beheading the troll. Then he started walking slowly to the center of the arena, smirking.

"What is next, oh bold and illustrious Jabba?"

Jabba the Hutt growled and raised his pudgy hand. Another cage opened, revealing a pair of hound dogs that had been genetically altered to be the most vicious dogs Darth Challix had ever encountered. They growled and charged at him, eager for bloodlust.

Darth Challix felt the dark side surround the creatures. He shut off his saber and put it on his belt and waited. And then he raised his hand and the dogs stopped, crumpled to the floor. They were dead.

The crowd was shocked at the Sith's power.

"One more challenge then," Darth Challix said, "Bring your best creature to duel me and I shall be victorious, I promise you."

Jabba the Hutt growled in frustration, but it quickly changed into a triumphant smirk.

"Bring in the experiment," He shouted in Huttese, which Darth Challix understood perfectly.

A large iron door opened automatically and out lumbered the biggest monstrosity Darth Challix had ever seen. The creature had gray scales and four arms, as well as three legs and ten eyes protruding out of a giant head.

In each of the arms he held a light saber.

Darth Challix growled to himself in frustration. He had not expected to fight force adept users. But he knew he could defeat this monstrosity. Lord Voldemort had picked him as an apprentice, and he knew he would not fail his Sith Lord under any circumstances.

He slowed down his breathing and entered into a trance, a light meditative state where he could feel the currents of the force surround him. "Okay then," he said to Jabba in Huttese, "After this, no more games. I have a deal to make with you."

Jabba nodded, "If you can defeat this creature, I shall grant you your request, whatsoever it may be." In truth Jabba was a little scared of the talented Sith Lord, and hoped he would never have to put all his body guards to the test. Hiring body guards cost a lot of credits and Jabba was a businessman above all else, above even his own depraved cruelty and joy of bloodshed.

Darth Challix faced the hideous monster and brought out his own duel red light saber. He whirled it around in frightening speed, and then charged at the monster. The monster easily evaded his offensives and plunged a lightsaber into the first opening he saw: Darth Challix's unprotected left thigh.

Darth Challix winced in pain but he used the distraction to plunge his light saber through the neck of the beast and then used the force to propel himself further away from the monster… waiting to watch it die.

But the monster did not die. It instead chuckled and charged at him. Darth Challix knew he was in trouble and he called upon his Sith Lord, Voldemort for help.

He only heard a dark chuckle in his mind, a ruthless chuckle. "If you can't defeat this pathetic creature, you have no place as my apprentice you fool."

It was as he expected. His sith lord would not give him aid.

He remembered how he sucked on Anakin's soul and that gave him an idea. He dropped the light saber and waited until the monster was within reach. Then he held out both hands and used the force lightning he had only seen Palpatine command. He didn't know where he got the knowledge but he trusted the Force and the force was guiding him. He let his conscious mind drift into a deep meditation as he focused all his energy on generating a lightning strike that would be sure to fell this dangerous opponent.

The lightning crackled within Darth Challix's fingers and then the red and blue lightning sped forward as if it had a will of it's own. Darth Challix wasn't in control. The darkness was predominant and he couldn't think clearly because the darkness of the force was crushing his mind body and spirt. He let the lightning flow out of him even though he felt pain as he did, as his face deformed, as he suffered the creature suffered when the lightning bolt hit the creature.

The creature tried to use his lightsabers to protect himself from the lightning but the sabers fizzled out, something unheard of. Darth Challix decided it must have been defective and broken light sabers. He watched in fascination as the lightning tore through the creature's body, through his intestines and lungs and a stench of burning flesh hit his nostrils.

Then the lightning stopped and Darth Challix stood proud, victorious, not letting his exhaustion show. His leg was bleeding, and he wondered if he would faint from blood loss. He couldn't afford to show any weakness so with the last of his energies he focused on healing his leg. He was only successful in stopping the blood flow of the wound and knew he would never be able to use his left leg again because of the hideous creature's attack.

Darth Challix started walking toward Jabba. The bodyguards made no move to defend him. He could see the terror in their eyes, as well as the hint of fear in Jabba's eyes. Then he spoke, clearly and sharply. "Thirty jedi are on their way to capture me. You will aid me, correct?"

Jabba chuckled, "You are powerful, very powerful but thirty jedi is too great a number. They will make mince meat out of you."

"That's why I need your help. If we can slaughter the jedi here, and destroy their ships they will not be able to communicate their failure to the council. You will be left alone after that, and I will reward you handsomely."

"Reward?" Jabba's greedy slug eyes perked up. "What sort of reward."

"I will bring you what you most seek: power."

"And how can I trust you, the words of a Sith are always deceptive lies, half truths at the most," said Jabba, shrugging his shoulders. Jango Fett stood silent, but then stepped forward. "I will aid you in your quest, Sith Lord, but I want a reward as well."

Darth Challix turned to him and it was then when Lord Voldemort spoke through his mind. "Yes bring him to me as well. I have been in contact with him and I require his services."

"Do you know who I serve?" asked Darth Challix.

"Yes," nodded Jango Fett. "I want to serve Lord Voldemort the same way you do, because it is the quickest way for power."

"Then you will aid me regardless of Jabba's decision?"

"Yes."

"Very well then, come with me, we will meet the Jedi scum and obliterate them from the face of the galaxy."

"Wait!" cried jabba the hut. "You are taking my best bounty hunter with you. You can't do that!" he protested.

Darth Challix shot him a cold look. "You will aid me in killing the Jedi, or I will kill you right where you stand."

"And I shall help," said Jango in a cold voice. "What say you?"

"Jade!" Jabba screamed, "Kill them."

Mara Jade, a beautiful but cunning woman, very powerful in both the force and in martial arts stepped forward. "Jango, please reconsider, this is a dangerous move you are making."

"My heart is set. I love you Mara, will you join me?"

Mara's eyes softened, and she blushed red. "I thought we would keep our relationship a secret," she said, annoyed.

"There is no time for that. Either stand with me or stand against me."

"Only the sith speak in absolutes," said Darth Challix with obvious admiration. "Lord Voldemort chose you rightly."

"Indeed," Jango said, inclining his head. "I have felt his presence in my mind for months and he is the most compelling character I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I am ready to serve him."

Jango scowled, "So you are taking my best warriors on this foolish errand. What is in it for me?" He said angrily.

"Reward," Jango said. "Don't ask what it is, but you shall have it. I never forget my debts."

Darth Challix nodded, "Should you gift us with your assistance, I assure you that you will be rewarded in time. More than you can imagine. My Lord Voldemort is a generous master, and will always pay the debts of his followers."

Jabba glared at them all and then he finally relented. "There better be one hell of a good reward for me. After the skills you have demonstrated it appears I have little choice but to go along with this Jedi slaughter. Where will the be landing?"

"In your hanger bay. In fact, they have just landed and are already here."

"What?"

"Sound the alarms," Jango Fett said to a nearby attendant. "Gather all available guards and warriors to me."

Mara Jade pulled out her own light saber, which was a hideous green violet shade. Darth Challix chuckled at the colours as he pulled out his own red dual blade light saber. "Let the battle begin then."

He sensed the Jedi presence and bade his two companions to follow him. "Come Jango, Mara," and they obeyed instantly. All three had one thing in common: Lord Voldemort. Even Mara had felt whispers in her mind from the dangerous and most powerful Sith Lord in existence, who was hiding in some remote planet in the outer rims.

"Very well then, let the war begin," Jabba said, "You have my full support. I hate the Jedi anyways!"

------------------------

Back on Earth… In Italy we join the illustrious Dark Lord Grindelwauld…

-----------

Albioni was a bit depressed he didn't yet have his wand. And while wondering the streets of Italy he came across many wanted posters with his name on it. But he quickly cast glamours on his face, very subtle glamours. He changed his blonde hair into black messy hair reminiscent of the picture of Harry Potter he had seen and he changed his eye color from bright blue to a dull brown. He also picked up an alias: John Walker.

He wondered down the muggle streets and entered a coffee shop called Starbucks where he ordered a cup of hot coffee. Of course he had no muggle money but he just used legilimency to get the attender to give him the cup of coffee for free. Legilimency was dead useful especially if the wizard had no wand. It was a type of wandless magic that relied on mental skills and concentration, of which Grindelwauld – as well as Dumbledore – was a master at. He took his hot cup of coffee and went to a corner by the windows. A newspaper was on the table. He leaned back in the armchair and grabbed the newspaper while waiting for his coffee to cool down a bit. On the front page was the headline, "Dangerous Mass Murderer escaped Prison!" He didn't bother to read the rest of the article, but he glanced down at his picture and wondered how they had noticed his escape so recently. He searched his mind and then an idea clicked: the fire in the forest. It must be a ward that set off a fire in the forest every time a prisoner escaped.

He sighed and went back to his coffee, sipping it softly. He still needed a wand. Without a wand he was dead useless and he didn't know any magical towns close by. So he sighed and wondered what to do. Although he knew a bit of wandless magic, and no doubt his legilimency helped influence certain people, like how he got free coffee, but it would not work in the long run.

It was time to contact some old friends of his, and the only friends he had that would still be alive were the vampires, who had fought alongside him in the previous war. With a sigh of regret – he hated losing, especially to someone with so little skill as Albus Dumbledore – he finished his coffee and started wondering the streets of Italy.

He reached a nice lake, that overlooked a little grove forest of trees. It was a pleasant scene. He sat down on the park bench. Closed his eyes and started to meditate. Under the clothes he had nicked from a muggle shop keeper, he had his bag of mushrooms with him. He knew of course that they were a drug, a psychedelic, but he needed some relaxation and he knew that under his glamour and disguise nobody would find him here, resting around some remote lake in some remote Italian town. So he just rested and waited as he chewed on the mushrooms. He didn't swallow them but spit them out after ten minutes and wished he had some more coffee to wipe out the slimy taste in his mouth.

Then he relaxed and started to meditate. He used control of his breath, letting it run slow and deep and within fifteen minutes he was in a deep meditative trance, helped by the mushrooms he injested. He knew it would take at least an hour for the mushrooms to work. He only had a little bit left in his satchel and boy he loved those mushrooms. They were certainly the best gift to find after fifty years of imprisonment from one country to the next.

He had used his animagus form to escape the confines of Italy's prison. They would ward it from animagi after they had learnt his means of escape so he hoped they would not capture him again. This was his last chance of freedom, and if he got caught by Italy's well trained aurors without a wand he was doomed. But here he was a free man, enjoying the scenery of the lake and the fresh breeze that blew from the nearby trees. He relaxed deeply into his meditation and just sank into the emptiness and tranquility it brought to him.

The mushrooms started to take hold of him but he wasn't scared of it. He had formidable mental shields to prevent himself from experiencing or doing something delusionally stupid. So he enjoyed the mushrooms relatively calmly and spent most of the day sitting idly on the park bench, surrounded by nature.

Nobody bothered him. He enjoyed the visions the mushrooms brought, but he knew it would not help him in any way. The mushrooms were not magical. They were simply a drug, a past time to enjoy life. And Grindelwauld after suffering from so much misery needed a bit of recreation. After the mushroom trip ended, he opened his eyes to meet complete darkness. It was late at night and he felt well rested.

It was the perfect time to steal jewlerry from unsuspecting houses. He planned to live a luxurious life style and recouver completely from his prisonment before he went to meet with the vampires.

The vampires could not tolerate weakness of any sort and they were surprisingly perceptive, more so because of their ancient lives that had granted them much wisdom. But with vampires on his side, Grindelwauld reasoned his rise to power would be unstoppable. He knew his previous wand was broken, so he needed money to hire a wand crafter to make him a new one, a wand that would be just as good as his old one. Wizards changed wands many times in their lives. After fifty years Grindelwauld knew he would need a better wand that would be more suited to his current personality.

But he had enjoyed the day. It refreshed him enormously enough and he got up, his limbs stiff and fingers cold. He started walking to the nearby shopping center. He walked right up to the door. It was in the middle of the night and only one security guard patrolled the muggle shopping center. Grindelwauld grinned.

He went to the door and put his hand on the lock and focused his energy to whisper wandlessly his favorite spell, "Alahorama." The door opened with a click and Grindelwauld sneaked inside. It was sort of dark in there, but there were a few lamps overhead giving a bit of light to see his target. He went to the jewlerry store, the first one he could find and again he opened the door with his spell. That wouldn't trigger the alarms. He turned on the light switch, hoping the gaurds wouldn't notice him.

He wouldn't be here long, just five minutes at the most. He pulled out his sack of mushrooms and with a regrettable sigh he dumped them on the floor of the shop. Drugs were fine once in a while, but he would not get addicted to them under any circumstances. He looked around the shop and his eyes rested on a glass encased box containing some of the most beautiful necklaces, pendants and rings he had ever seen. Perfect, he thought.

He looked at the lock and key that held the glass door shut, and with another spell of unlocking he easily pilfered the jewellery from the shop. Then as he was about to leave he caught sight of a vault that was also under lock and key. Perfect, he thought. His bag which he had conjured was sort of bottomless, meaning it had no limit in how many objects he placed into it, but of course since he had conjured it wandlessly he knew there would be some limitations. Nevertheless, after pilfering the jewlerry in the store from one case to the next, he approached the vault.

He unlocked it and was greeted with the sight of thousands and thousands of stacks of bills. Grinning, he shoved them all in his bottomless bag and decided to make his escape. He had enough wealth to live like a prince.

It was always good to appear rich in front of the vampires. They held the poor in deep contempt and to convince the vampires to join his side he would need a lot of money, as well as a wand.

With the money he could get a wand, and with what was left over he could get a new wardrobe of the best wizarding robes available, the ones that stuck up purebloods would wear. Grinning in joy at his acquired wealth he turned off the light switch and made his way out only to meet with a fat security guard dressed in a police uniform.

"Halt!" cried the rookie police man who had been assigned guard duty. "You are under arrest."

Grindelwauld swallowed. Without a wand he was defenseless. But he had mental powers, and he used legilimency to peer through the police man's mind and he focused all his energy on a nonverbal spell made all the more harder because he had no wand.

But his mental connection with the victim was a good substitute.

"Stupefy." He said. There was no red light.

In fact the only red light came from the man's eyes before he slumped to the floor, unconscious. Grindelwauld walked toward him and examined the gun the man was holding. This would prove useful he thought. He pulled out the hostler and the gun and attached it to his belt.

Then he walked out of the muggle shopping center and nobody stopped him.

He walked and walked, until he decided to call a cab which stood parked nearby in a side road.

He pulled out a wad of bills, not having much experience with muggle money. He approached the cab driver and said, "Hello, I need a ride."

The cab driver looked at him with a scowl, "Sorry, I'm done for today."

Grindelwauld handed him five bills. The cab driver's eyes widened. "Are you serious!" he exclaimed. "Five thousand…"

"So can I get a ride?"

"Yes of course, for sure," the cab driver said, grinning excitedly. "Right, where do you want to go?"

"Far away from here," Grindelwauld said. "To the next city."

"Oh, okay, that's going to cost a lot but since you've already paid in advance I can do it. No problem."

They started the drive. Grindelwauld surreptiously read the cab driver's mind through the mirrors of the car and discovered the cab driver was an honest man, but a bit stupid as well. Grindelwauld marveled at his good luck.

"So what's your name," said the cab driver as they drove through the dark streets. "Are you from around here?"

"No I'm a tourist, Albioni, pleased to meet you," said the dark lord. "And you are?"

"Tom Higgins, I moved from Britain, because bad things are happening there and all, but I am glad to be in Italy even though that mass murder broke out."

"Oh? Who is this?"

"Some guy, I forget his first name… something Grindelwauld."

Albioni sighed in relief at his good luck. He really need a better alias. But Albioini was the name his pureblood father had given him and he would not abandon it. Not under any circumstances.

They drove for hours on end, through highways and cramped streets. Tom kept asking where he wanted to go and Albioni kept replying further, to the next city. After giving Tom a fortune in muggle money, the cab driver was happy to oblige and seemed to pick up that Albioni didn't want to talk so much, so he stayed silent.

They stopped for a coffee at a gas station. Albioni told Tom to bring him some sandwiches and food as he was hungry. Tom happily obliged. "After the money you're paying me the least I can do is see that your belly is full," he said with a laugh. Albioni happily agreed.

They kept driving until they reached a well populated city that Albioini did not know the name of, nor did he care. "That's good," Albioni said, "You can drop me off here." Tom dropped him off at a busy street adjacent to a highway, filled to the brim with shops of all varieties.

Albioini thanked the driver and clutching his bag of wealth he quickly found a five star hotel. He paid in advance for a week's worth of room and board, which the manager happily accepted.

Albioni spent the next week in total seclusion, going out only for an hour a day to bring groceries like fruits and vegetables. He sank into a deep meditative trance, hopefully to gain guidance on his next move. He liked his meditation retreats and after the prison stay the five star hotel was a luxury. They provided a humungoes room for Albioni – because he paid the manager well, since the dark lord was ignorant in muggle money, he had paid three times the usual fee so the manager assumed the man was a rich merchant or something and Albioni dressed to look the part. He bought himself a nice muggle wardrobe of suits and cloaks of stylish designs and paid heftily. He soon figured out the muggle currency but he was not too worried. He had stolen thousands from the jewlerry shop. After getting his wardrobe, he next set upon buying books, all sorts of books on varities of subjects. At first he only bought muggle books and newspapers to catch up on recent events but he longed to return to the wizarding world.

He knew he had to be patient though. The whole magical world was looking for him and while he stayed in the muggle world he was safe from Italy's dangerous highly trained aurors.

It frustrated Grindelwauld to no end that he had no wand.

But he would fix that soon, he promised. He went down to the hotel swimming pool and had a nice swimming, training his body to be supple and fit for the upcoming duels he would no doubt had to face.

He hadn't contacted the vampires yet. All his old contacts were gone and he had no way to reach the wizarding world yet.

But he still had power, and he had patience. He was a long lived fellow, coming from a line of people who lived well into their two hundreds without narry a physical pain and as energetic as ever.

Grindelwauld was about the same age as Albus, but he was certainly far more energetic and vitalitc. It had to do with his genes, which Albus sadly lacked.

His thoughts churned around Albus many times but with his daily meditations he found a bit of peace, and he reigned in his anger at the man. At the time of their duel they were youngsters, little more than thirty years old.

Grindelwauld, after living a month in luxury at the hotel soon decided it would be best to forgive the old man and move on. Revenge was sweet but it was a sword that cut both ways.

And Grindelwauld was ambitious. He would only fight Albus if the old man would get in the way. He would not actively seek the old man out.

He longed for news of the wizarding world, but after many days of searching and searching in the city he had yet to find even a trace of the magical world. With a resigned sigh he knew he would have to go to the very center of magic in the world… Britian, where magic had first originated in its own culture, starting with Hogwarts, the most ancient magical building in the world.

His month long luxury at the five star hotel was over. He had enjoyed the sauna, the fluffy towels and the baths, and the privacy of his large room as well as the delicious food offered by the hotel. He had plenty of privacy to practice his wandless spells but he still needed a wand.

So he did something desperate. He fashioned a wand himself.

There were no magical creatures to use as a core but he himself, being a wizard was a magical creature.

So he created a blood wand. He used the leg of a coffee table, a wooden leg, and with a pen knife he carved it hollow. Then he slashed his wrist and let the blood flow into the wooden leg of the coffee table, before he covered his wound with bandages he had bought just for the occasion. Then he covered his home made wand with the cork of a wine bottle and tried his first spell at the couch.

"Wingardium Leviosa…"

It worked.

Almost. The couch rose and then faltered and then fell to the floor. Albioni grimaced in disgust. What did he expect with such a crude wand. But at least he had a defence in case aurors from Britain's ministry were on his tail. He could use the wand to defend himself.

Then the shock hit him. He had made a blood wand.

It was illegal… banned for over two hundred years.

Grindelwauld simply laughed and laughed and looked at the wand in a better light. He almost loved it, because he loved defying tradition. Yes the wand would take some getting use to. It was almost twice as long as a regular wand and looked like a walking stick for a toddler more than a wand. But it would do.

He postponded his trip to Britian to train with his new wand. He left the city, pawned off all the jewelry he had stolen for more cash and went to the suburbs of Italy to practice in a remote location. He bought an ancient house on the lake side miles away from civilization and for months and months he practiced with his new wand.

It worked.

Grindelwauld smirked.

It worked perfectly and for that he was tremendously happy. He laughed and laughed and stopped laughing when three Italy aurors knocked on his door. Then the laugh melted away into a frown, and then into a scowl, and then into a glowering hatred. He opened the door and without warning he started dueling the three Italy aurors. They had probably tracked him down due to all the magical spells he had been casting. Damn… he would need to flee Italy.

As he dueled the aurors with tremendous ease, he realized he couldn't go back to Britian yet. He still needed the help of vampires and the only way he would get that is if he went to Transylvania, the home of all vampires who served under their master, Count Dracula… who was also Grindelwauld'


	5. Chapter 5

HARRY OF THE SITH

BY: TRIDENTWATCH

CHAPTER FIVE: Harry's dream about Tom Riddle

-----------

Harry excitedly walked to the headmaster's office. On his way he met peeves and he suddenly got an idea. "Expecto Patronum!" he said, thinking of his happiest memory which involved a dream with several seventh year Hogwarts girls and himself holed up in a wooden shack in the middle of winter. Nevertheless it was quite the pleasant dream and it did wonders for his patronus. A silvery stag the size of Hagrid thundered out of Harry's wand. When Peeves saw the patronus he froze and then instantly started to run away. Harry chuckled as he commanded his stag patronus to chase Peeves down.

He was really glad Remus had taught him that charm. Who knew how many uses the patronus charm had! And Harry was eager to find out the spell's many secrets. He was deeply intrigued by the "Expecto Messengus Patronum" charm and he wondered what other additions could be made on the patronus charm that he had so successfully mastered in his third year.

He walked toward the gargoyles and said, "Chocolate frogs." The gargoyles opened creakily the stairwell that led to Albus's office. Harry walked upward and felt a twinge of apprehension, something that came from his intuition. He had a bad feeling about this. As usual before he had the chance to knock, Albus bade him to enter.

He opened the door and was greeted with the sight of the old man sharing a cup of tea with a beautiful witch not much older than Harry. The witch had purple hair and a bright twinkle in emerald green eyes that was the exact replica of Harry's eyes. It unnerved him slightly.

He took a seat and nodded to the headmaster and said, "Thanks for teaching me the spell today."

Dumbledore grinned and said, "I have a solution to your little problem, Harry. Even though I am usually unavailable to tutor you, I have found you a replacement. Would you explain, Nymphadora?"

The witch grumbled, "I told you not to call me that Albus. It's Tonks, Harry, and don't you forget it."

Harry gulped at the icy look in the witch's otherwise friendly eyes and nodded fast. "Okay, I'll call you Tonks, or is it Miss Tonks?"

She scowled at him. "Tonks, please. Do you want some tea?"

Harry's stomach grumbled. He hadn't eaten lunch because he had been obsessed with mastering the spell Dumbledore taught him. "Yes please, and perhaps a few lemon drops if you're willing to share, headmaster?"

"Of course, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling merrily as he handed a crystal dish filled with lemon drops. Harry grabbed a handful and started to open them. He popped one in his mouth and grimaced at the sour taste. "This is the worst candy ever, headmaster. How can you stand them."

Tonks watched the pair bantering like old friends with curiousity. "So you're the best of friends I take it?"

Harry laughed, "Sometimes, but there are times when I wouldn't like more than to strangle the headmaster. Especially when he set me up with tutoring sessions with Snape."

Tonks grimaced, "Ugh, I had him for potions class when I went to Hogwarts. What a git. He hated the Hufflepuffs, especially the ones who showed talent."

"Oh so you're a hufflepuff then?" asked Harry curiously. "I never had many hufflepuff friends."

"Well I'm sure we'll be friends soon enough, with the hair brained scheme the senile old man cooked for me."

Albus gave a mighty laugh and then took a sip of his tea. Harry did like wise. "So the reason I called you here, Harry, is to meet my associate, the esteemed auror Miss Tonks who has agreed to quit her job and come train you in disguise."

"In disguise? Bloody hell, she's at least twenty. There's no way she could pass for a student," Harry said, smirking. "Unless of course she's a hufflepuff like she said. Then it would make some sense."

Tonks glared at him. "For your information, not all Hufflepuffs are stupid you know."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I've met quite a few, and aside from Cedric Diggory, none of the others are much good at magic."

"Ah Cedric…" Albus said, taking on a mournful look. Harry noticed his slip up, and instantly chastisied himself for it. The wound was still fresh and it stung him. They lapsed into a few moments of silence, hiding their discomfort in the soothing tea and in Harry's case, tasting a few more of Albus's favorite treat, lemon drops.

"Anyways, you should be aware of Tonks' special abilities. She has quite a talent, a rare and unique talent that will be of tremendous help in the war against Voldemort."

None of the occupants in the room flinched. Harry was surprised because he knew the name was taboo in wizarding culture, and due to Tonks' little show of bravery, he already formed the first twinges of respect toward her.

"Let me show you my abilities Harry," Tonks said and instantly changed into a black haired, green eyed version of himself… with breasts.

Harry, startled, leapt out of the chair. "What the hell." He spluttered. Tonks and Albus shared a laugh.

"Okay it's pretty creepy, can you change yourself back please? You're a metamorphagus, right?"

"Oh wow, you know what I am," Tonks said without the least bit of complement in her tone. "Where did you get that information?"

"I was looking for strange abilities that wizards have, seeing as I'm a parseltongue and all, and I came across this chapter… but wow… I never thought I'd actually see a real one."

"And I never thought I'd meet a parselmouth back when I was a child, back when the only parselmouth was Lord Voldemort." Tonks shuddered. "He attacked my family a few weeks ago. "My mother Andromeda Black is dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said, "But what do you know of Sirius Black?"

Tonks's feautures changed into a look of pure rage. "That bloody traitor! I'd kill him if I ever saw him."

"You'd kill my godfather, who is an innocent man?"

"Innocent?" Tonks said incredulously. Albus took that moment to explain the situation to Tonks, and that led to the story of Harry's third year. They spent a good deal of time chatting before Harry remembered his purpose here.

"So what are you going to do, dress yourself up as a student and be my bodyguard or something?"

"Something like that," Tonks said, "Except I'm going to be training you in auror level dueling. So you'll have to give up on quidditch unfortunately."

"Well as much as I like dueling, I love to fly even more," Harry said and then looked at Albus. "If I can't fly I'll go insane. So I respectfully decline."

Albus shook his head in mirth, "You can still fly in your spare time, but quidditch is out of the question. It is useless now that Voldemort has returned. We need to give you a lot of training if you are to survive your coming years."

"Ron will be pissed," Harry said.

"What's more important," Tonks snapped, "Your friendship with Ron, or your life?"

Harry stared at her hard, "Friendship," he said simply. Then he turned and walked out the door. Albus and Tonks made no move to stop him.

"He gets like that sometimes," Albus said. "He's immensely loyal to his friends, something you can understand being a Hufflepuff."

"This is for his own good though," Tonks said, huffing. "I quit my job as a well paid auror for a personal favor for you but if he's not interested then-"

"Hold on there," Albus said, "I'll convince him later. Why don't you head on home and relax, perhaps take a bubble bath and do a bit of meditation, hmm?"

Tonks sighed, "Meditation? What a bunch of bollocks. I'm going to a bar and get drunk."

She flooed out of Albus's office leaving the old man perplexed at the youth of his day. Nevertheless, he took out a lemon drop and sucked on the sour sweet as he closed his eyes and did a bit of meditation himself. It calmed him down.

-----

A few days later Harry showed up at Albus's office unannounced. He had an apology to make. "Listen, headmaster, what I said the other day… I've been doing some thinking and I realize that my life is much more important than a stupid game anyways. I… I behaved in an unacceptable manner. I apologize."

Albus beamed. "There's nothing to forgive, it's quite alright for teenagers to go through these rebellious phases every now and then. And you can still fly on your firebolt in private. There's no rule stopping you from that. However it is imperative that you must be taught properly."

"I know," Harry said miserably. "Maybe if I was a better dueller I could have saved Cedric, but…. I'm just a normal kid, you know? I never even knew about the magical world until I was eleven and now… after four years… I'm still a kid, Albus, and I make mistakes but here I am, trying to set things right. Is Tonks still willing to train me?"

"I'm happy about your maturity, but I'm afraid Tonks has been amandant about this subject. It would be best if you talk to her now. I have been pestering her for it but she won't listen to me anymore on this subject." Albus chuckled. "Ah the youth of today…"

"Okay, so should I go owl her and maybe we can meet for some ice cream or something. I do owe her an apology." Harry said. Another part of his mind also said, 'And she's damn hot. I wouldn't mind spending time with her.'

Albus laughed, eyes twinkling as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. "Of course you may. You are not a prisoner here, Harry. It is you summer vacation after all. But I'm afraid I have some dire news for you."

"What is it, another attack?" Harry asked, alarmed as he shot out of his seat, his tea cup spilling black tea all over Albus's paper strewn desk.

Albus ignored the mess and shook his head. "Petunia's having another baby."

Harry sat down, shocked. "What! She's bloody forty years old."

"Yes, I understand, but as I see it you have a nephew now. You should be happy."

"Darn kid's probably going to turn out retarded," Harry grumbled under his breath.

Albus shot him a sharp look as if he heard that, "I won't have you say something so malicious in my office," he snapped, eyes blazing furiously. "Get out."

Harry gulped. He had never seen this side of Albus before. He quickly scampered to his feet and walked out of the office, regretting his choice of words. As he walked down the hallways of Hogwarts he realized he hated the Dursleys, and he didn't care much about them or about Petunia's new baby. What a load of bull shite, he grumbled in his mind. He headed off to the library to read some books about defense against the dark arts, maybe pick up a spell or two.

--------------------

That night Harry had a strange dream. It was when he was in the graveyard dueling Voldemort after he had been reborn. He felt their two spells connect and there was a burst of phoenix song filling him with light, hope and serenity. He willed the bead of golden light toward Voldemort as the dark lord did the same.

It was a battle of wills.

And this time Harry won the battle and as the bead reached Voldemort's wand, he was assaulted with strange memories of Riddle's childhood, of how he spent hellish brutal years in the orphanage where the older kids beat him, and the younger kids scampered away in fear. Tom was a starved orphan boy until on a walk to the forest he came across a garden snake.

Tom started talking to the snake, "hello how are you. My name is Tom riddle."

"You can call me Nagini," said the snake. It was merely a harmless garden snake but it became Tom's only companion throughout his childhood until he reached eleven years old. He was always gone in the forest in the day time and only came at night for dinner. The snake taught him how to fend for himself in the vast forest that surrounded the orphanage. Tom got the best pick of apples and berries, which Nagini showed him where to find. He even, with the help of his vast intelligence, set up a little trap using strings and twigs and a dug up hole that captured him a rabbit. "Nagini, guard this dead creature until I return with matchsticks. Then we shall truly have a feast." Tom said.

He went back to the orphanage and was met with the sight of Alex Lombarsky, the biggest bully in the orphanage who loved to pick on Tom.

"Well well, what do we have here, a scrawny fag like you running around peeing your pants, hmm?" Alex said maliciously. He pushed Tom, and Tom fell into a wet puddle of mud. Tom glared at the bully and felt his rage intensify when the bully's friends started laughing along with Alex. Tom let the hate grow in his heart and he held out his hand, not sure what he was doing.

But then a strange bolt of electric blue lightning shot out of Tom's hand and into Alex's face. Alex screamed, his face burnt, and Tom started laughing. Tom just sat there in the puddle, laughing at Alex's pain. Alex's friends ran to the orphanage to get some help while Alex cowered on the grass, clutching his burnt face in agony. Tom got up and looked at Alex and then, viciously he kicked the boy as hard as he could in the boy's kidneys. Alex groaned in more pain.

"Look at me, you fool," Tom said, high on the power he had found, high on the dark side of the force. "If you ever mess with me again, I will kill you."

After that Alex the bully never bothered Tom again.

Tom escaped toward the orphanage and stealed in through the back door. He went to the kitchens and opened the first drawer he could find, pulled out a box of matches, and ran back into the forest to find Nagini.

Later that night, boy and his pet snake had roast rabbit for dinner.

And Alex got hospitalized, his diagnosis listed as electrocution of the face. The doctors said it probably had something to do with a faulty electrical wiring system around the orphanage. The boys who were with Alex when it happened did not say anything about Tom. They were terrified of what the boy would do if they rattled on him. Alex screamed it was Tom Riddle's fault but of course nobody believed him.

Not even Mrs. Cole… yet.

Harry woke up from the dream, his scare not aching but feeling surprisingly good, as if waves of bliss rolled off his cursed scar.

What in the hell was that, Harry wondered. He looked outside his empty dorm window and caught sight of the rising sun. Damn, he had woken up fairly early. He decided to go for a run. He changed into shorts and a tee shirt that he had transfigured from Dudley's cast offs and set off to Hogwarts grounds, intent on getting a nice long run.

Running always cleared his mind, much better than his feeble meditation skills could. He loved to run, to feel the wind rush past his face, to feel the breeze of the lake enter his nostrils, to smell the scent of the salt of the lake and the fresh smells of the Forbidden Forest. He ran several loops around Hogwarts, lost in his running. For a while he thought about the dream but he soon forgot it. It was only a dream after all, right? Not a vision or anything. Nevertheless it unnerved him.

He thought about going to Albus but decided against it. It was just a silly dream, why should he bother the great wizard about it when the man was so busy?

Chuckling at his own foolishness for being scared of a silly dream he focused on his run and the dream was forgotten… for now.


	6. Chapter 6

HARRY OF THE SITH

BY: TRIDENTWATCH

-------

Master Yoda sat in his minimalist room that combined in meditation chamber. He closed his eyes and slowed down his breathing, letting all the tension in his body go lax as he entered the currents of the force to feel the air around him, to smell the scents that he would not be able to notice in a more awakened state, to feel the light side and the dark side clashing. But there was no clash. The dark side had been eradicated apparently and the light side was there, but in a very lazy sloppy way as if it didn't care anymore, as if it were weak and apathetic.

Master Yoda was worried. He had already sent his best fifteen jedi knights to hunt for the Sith Lord who had managed to eradicate both Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn, his apprentice Obi Wan Kenobi, and a boy with a high count of the stuff that made the jedi. Anakin himself was a little mystery, the boy was dead yes but there were no wounds on him and the boy was very pale, and his skin was wrinkled and his hair was gray but he still looked like a boy. It was a mystery that could only be explained by the arrival of the dark Jedi who had most likely done something horrible to an innocent boy.

Master Yoda let his rage subside and released into the force, helping himself calm down significantly before tackling the next problem.

Chancellor Palpatine… he had been the Sith Lord's Master, and the apprentice had without any cunning, without any need for deception simply barged into the Chancellor's office and started a battle which was recorded on the holocams and then put on the holonet for the whole galaxy to watch.

They watched in shock as Chancellor Palpatine, their beloved leader who had sacrificed so much for the republic turned out to be a Sith Lord.

Yoda sighed in distaste at the whole situation, though he was glad he got his clarity back. He could feel the shrouds of darkness weaken their hold on the Jedi Temple, and he could sense the world around him more clearly, in a way that had evaded him for the past twenty five years which coincidentally corresponded with Palpatine's rise to power.

Now what to do, Yoda wondered, delicate we must be to handle this situation.

So far the Jedi had taken no steps to control the senate, and had let them bicker for who to be the new chancellor. In fact the only dictate the Jedi Temple had given the republic was that if you choose another Sith Lord to be in a position of power, we will have to unfortunately dissolve the senate.

This was met with applause from all over the galaxy. After Mace Windu had made this little speech, the Jedi were held in high regard. They attributed Palpatine's fall to the Jedi but Yoda knew this was not true.

In the case of Twos, Sith Master and Sith apprentice, one always dies in the end. In this case the master had died. So what was the apprentice doing?

Some would say he was fleeing, like Jedi Knight Lero who had been led to lead the mission to capture the Sith apprentice.

But Yoda knew it was not true, and the Light side of the Force agreed with him, while the dark side tried to hinder his progress in his meditation.

Yoda took another breath and this time totally let go into the currents of the force. He went into a deep meditation with no anchor, no nearby Jedi to pull him up in case he lost himself and died, and became one with the force.

But Yoda was a warrior and a risk taker, he had the talent and the energy to undertake this dangerous deep meditation.

He went through the currents of the force, like a shark, meeting with bits of dark force resistence along the way which he immediately attacked. What followed was a battle that Yoda won but he did not come out unscathed. When he would awaken he would have an enormous headache for sure and his old limbs would be aching. He would feel the weight of his nine hundred years upon him.

That did not scare Yoda. The Jedi Grandmaster plunged on into the force until he finally met up with the Sith apprentice. He saw with a transclucent clarity that the Sith apprentice had bade Jabba the Hutt on Tatoooine to his cause and that his thirty jedi were about to confront him.

This will not end well for us, the Jedi thought. More losses only this will bring, we must be careful. So he sent this message to the leader of the group, Jedi Knight Lero. The Jedi responded with a bit of surprise at the warning and thanked Yoda. They got into another formation, cautious, because they anticipated an ambush now. Yoda smiled to himself, yes, this will help the Jedi. The knights were at the forefront, with the padawans at the rear supported by two weak knights who also were at the rare. One of the weak knights, Jedi Knight Kanta, was fuming at being the one on the retreat. Yoda went to her, and gave her his presence, calmed her down and reasoned with her.

"Soon you will be strong one day in time, be patient young one. Jealousy and frustration leads to the dark side."

Jedi Knight Kanta got calmed after she heard Yoda communicating with her. Yoda felt her excitement at being communicated by the grandmaster himself and it cheered her heart.

Yoda was glad he could do this much because he knew that the next few minutes brought only slaughter. He settled himself down to watch the battle and aid when he could but then he felt the tendrils of the dark force near him. He followed it to the Sith apprentice, who was bathed in the darkside. Yoda shuddered as his spirit form approached the Sith apprentice invisibly and then he saw something strange.

Behind the Sith apprentice stood the Sith master, just like Yoda in his spirit form. None of the others could see the Sith Master, a ghost like wraith of a being simply hovering over his Sith apprentice but Yoda could.

The man was like a skeleton, almost a human but he had crimson eyes that bespoke of no mercy and he twirled a wooden stick as if it were a light saber of some sort. Yoda's eyes widened, 'so this is the master sith lord, the one with enough power to challenge palpatine himself… interesting…. What should I do?' he wondered, 'should I show myself to him?'

But he did not need to make the decision. The red eyes turned to where Yoda was floating, and narrowed. 'Who are you, little green troll?" snarled the Master Sith Lord with a menacing hiss in his high toned voice.

"Yoda my name is, and a Jedi I am." Yoda replied camly. "Firmly I stand before the light and you are darkness. I shall destroy you one day."

The dark sith lord laughed, "I am Lord Voldemort and nothing you can do shall destroy me!" He attacked. He raised his wand and fired a beam of red light, as if it was a projectile light saber but Yoda couldn't see the handle. Nevertheless Yoda dodged the light and moved forward, opening his lightsaber with a hiss. He let the green light of the light saber move around with a will of his own as he trusted himself within the force.

His trust was not misplaced because the force spoke to him, not in words but in feelings.

Retreat, the force called. You cannot win this battle my friend; you must take this information to the council and analyze it further. Don't be hasty in your actions.

Yoda nodded to himself and shut off his light saber with a hiss. "Not battle we will but save for another day." Then he was gone, back in the rivers of the force, back to his body.

He awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide and pitch red, like the crimson of Voldemort's eyes. The darkness surrounded him like a plague, just by being in the mere presence of the Sith Lord. He shut his eyes and let the force roll over him, clearing away the darkness like a brush until it was gone. Then he sighed and went to the Thousand Fountains room to meditate over this situation further. He had to think and analyze it completely before he brought it to the council.

Lord Voldemort was the dark lord behind the dark lord, the hidden dark lord. He had read that some Sith lords carried a hidden apprentice, if the proclaimed apprentice was not enough. Just in the reverse case perhaps the Sith also had hidden dark lords. That was a perplexing and worrying thought, which filled Yoda's days with endless frustration.

Yoda knew only the Force would reveal the answers to his questions so he went back to his chambers and began to meditate more, not venturing into the currents of the Living force but venturing deep within himself to see the truth.

He went into the Unifying Force within.

And when his eyes opened, when he came out of his meditation he knew what to do. But he had to act at once!

He had to talk to the council about Voldemort and inform them of the knowledge he had gained through his adventures into deep risky meditation such as this. Even though he could have died he presumed that the knowledge he had gained was worth even his life.

With a heavy heart he got out of his room and decided to check on the poor boy, Anakin Skywalker. There are always remnants of the force on dead bodies, to show what they lived through, how they lived, who they were in their character, morals, ethics and in their sheer willpower. The force had a lot to do with willpower, but the Jedi considered it mostly a dark side because willpower comes from emotion and the Jedi want serenity and compassion only, and a discipline that comes not from willpower itself but from the Force.

Yoda agreed with this to a certain extent, but somehow, in his heart of hearts he had his doubts. The Jedi were not infallible and the force was infinite and mysterious and nobody could understand it fully. Yoda doubted even he himself had understood all that the Force had been trying to teach him over the centuries.

With a heavy sigh he entered the medic room where Anakin was kept for observation. The boy was in a glass cyrochamber, so his body would not detoriate and so he would be available for the council to examine the force remnants on him.

Yoda decided to do just this in order to gain more knowledge about the mysterious Sith Lord Voldemort. He stretched out the tendrils of his force into the boy, and he slipped into a light trance, focusing on his breathing to do so. As he touched Anakin's body with the tendrils of his force he felt an electric shock run through him.

But it was a pleasant shock.

The force roamed around the body, as if Anakin were still alive, as if his spirit if not his body was still living. The force roamed within and through him both light and dark energies.

Yoda gasped. "The boy shockingly alive he be," he muttered to himself before he hobbled out of the medic room. He was an old person with tired bones and muscles so he had to use his cane when he didn't use the force for his movements and so he hobbled very unlike a grandmaster to the council room.

He called an emergency session to discuss the situation, with an impeding doom sensation in his heart. What did this mean? Anakin was still alive? Of course they had run a test on him and had discovered he would have been extremely strong in the force, with his mildorian count and all. But by gods, this had never happened before! The body was dead, but the mind and the soul that resided in the body still lived, still prospered and grew as if everything was normal.

Yoda for the first time in many days was perplexed with the situation. He simply had no idea what to do.

The council meeting started at once, first with the arrival of Mace Windu who was in the Thousand Fountains garden meditating, and then with the hologram arrivals of other masters. Another council member entered, Jedi Master Hu, who had just been appointed recently.

As they settled down, Yoda told them of all that had transpired including his ghostly meeting with Lord Voldemort and feeling Anakin's energies as if the boy was still alive. First there were doubts and raised eyebrows of shock but with yoda's reputation they soon believed him but decided to test it for themselves later on their own time.

"Now what must be done?" asked Mace Windu.

"We must obviously hunt down this rogue Sith Lord," Hu said angrly. "We cannot allow the Sith to gain any more power. How in the world did Palpatine slip by us anyways?"

"He is a Sith and a master of deception," answered a council member serenely, "We are not at fault, because the dark side was clouding our perception as you well know."

"Yes, our perception," said Hu scornfully. "We are Jedi, not some children running around with binoculars trying to catch birds. We must be more careful, more scheming, more sensitive to the Force around us."

Yoda chose this moment to respond, "The senate is in chaos as is, council member, what must we do then you say?"

"Simple enough," Hu said, "Take control of the council and ensure that the safety of the republic never falls into the hands of the Sith ever again."

"A dark line of thought you are treading on, Master Hu," Yoda said.

"I agree with Hu," Mace Windu said, "The senate is obviously not competent enough to run the republic. If we take control, we will get some bad press initially but this could be a good opportunity to lay a heavy hand down on drug smuggling."

Hu sneered, "Drug smuggling? Is that all you can think about? Have you not heard of the separatist movement?"

"And what of it?" scoffed Mace Windu, "It is a peaceful movement, there is no harm in letting it continue."

"But what if they went to war?" Hu said slyly.

"With what? A bunch of rich senators and merchants?" Mace said, chuckling softly.

"No, with an army of battle droids," Hu said, and silence reigned in the council room.

"What!" exclaimed Mace. Hu explained that he had received information from his apprentice about Count Dooku creating an army of battle droids."

"A grave situation this is," Yoda said. "Council meeting adjourned."


	7. Chapter 7

HARRY OF THE SITH

TRIDENTWATCH

CHAPTER SEVEN

Harry's vision

----------

Harry opened his eyes to the light rays of the rising sun and groaned, "Damn it's already becoming a habit for me to wake up at the crack of dawn," he said aloud, "and without a rooster too."

He got out of his bed, dressed, and after a hot shower he had breakfast in the kitchens with the elves. As he ate he thought about Tonks and what he would write to her. He definitely wanted to apologize in some way but he didn't feel that he was wrong. He wouldn't abandon his friends, not for anything, not even if it meant dying at the hands of Voldemort. Then again, he thought that he was a bit immature. Sure he loved quidditch and he loved defeating Draco at it over and over. It was quite the experience.

But he wanted to survive the war too. Who knows when Voldemort will kidnap me again, Harry thought angrily. I'll need to be able to fight him, to survive, so I definitely need the training that Tonks can give me.

With a sigh he headed to the owlery and conjured a parchment and a quil. "Thank god I can use my wand here," he said to himself as he quickly sketched a letter to Tonks.

"Dear Tonks,

Sorry I was a bit rude the other day but I had a lot of things on my mind, especially Voldemort. You're right of course, quidditch is not important compared to surviving an attack by Lord Voldemort. If you're still willing I'd be happy to accept training from you. Perhaps we can meet up at Diagon Alley for ice cream or something. My treat. Think of it as an apology. Anyways write back at your convenience.

Yours,

Harry Potter."

Then he folded the note and used a school owl to deliver it. He wrote the address as "Nymphadora Tonks, location: Britian." And he hoped the owl would be able to find the auror. He wished he had Hedwig because his owl was way smarter than other owls, Harry knew from experience. Alas, Hedwig was with Hermione, waiting for her to finish her letter so she could send it to Harry. Hermione didn't have an owl of her own and Harry decided he would buy her one as a present when he went to Diagon Alley. That is, if he had the money to. He really needed to check his finances with the goblins at Gringotts. And get the supplies for next year too. But he had promised Dumbledore that he would inform the old wizard before going to Diagon Alley, for security reasons and all.

Harry was a big target for Voldemort but Dumbledore had said VOldemort wouldn't want to show himself just yet so he was relatively safe in public places. Nevertheless, Dumbledore wanted to keep tabs on Harry for his own protection. Harry didn't mind, the more the merrier in his opinion. He just hoped it wouldn't be Mad Eye Moody escorting him anywhere. That paranoid auror gave him the creeps because Harry kept imagining he was a death eater. They looked so alike, he thought with a shake of his head.

He decided it was a nice time for a fly and so he summoned his firebolt to him as he left Hogwarts, "Accio firebolt!" and he waited until the broom firmly slapped his hand. Gripping it, he mounted the broom and raced into the sky, letting a loud whoopee as the wind tore through his hair.

Racing around the broom he felt something strange. It was coming from his scar. He frowned but slowed down his speed as he circled above the lake. What was happening to him? He wondered. Was it his imagination or was the scar actually feeling… tingly.

Then blackness took him and he fell off his broom into the lake.

He was trapped in a memory of sorts, a memory that lasted only a few seconds outside but in his head it felt for ever.

It was about Tom Riddle again.

He was learning dark arts in a very large chamber, which Harry instantly recognized as the chamber of secrets. He watched the boy – a man now, probably in his seventh year trace chalk drawings on a clean white marble floor.

The drawings were of a circle, with triangles overlapping all inside the circle and there were candles on the edges of the circle evenly spaced. Tom stood at the center and pointed his wand at the sky. He started hissing and it took only a moment for Harry to recognize it as parseltongue.

"Salazar Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four, grant me your powers!"

There was a sound, like that of rushing wind, and all the candles flickered out leaving the chamber in darkness.

Tom's wand glowed, brightly sickly orange, and then Tom stumbled and fell to the floor, clutching his gut and screaming in pain. Harry watched in fascination as Tom whimpered, he almost felt the pain rolling up and down Tom Riddle's body. He could only watch as the pain subsided and Tom got up to his feet, smirking and grinning. His bright brown eyes was now a crimson red.

Tom laughed and laughed. "Thank you!" He shouted, hissing in parseltongue, "Thank you Slytherin!"

Harry wondered what power Tom received, and soon he knew the answer. All around Tom within the circle there were piles and piles of ancient books and tomes, thousands of books within the circle. Harry's eyes widened as he realized that Tom had somehow accessed Slytherin's secret library. Harry gulped as he realized that Tom would now be well on his way on the dark path, armed with the knowledge of one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived.

Harry ventured closer but Tom's crimson eyes turned toward Harry's and a bond formed between them, a translucent silvery bond. "Who's there!" Tom said, surprised and agitated. "Who's watching me? Dumbledore?"

Harry stepped backward and tried to escape but nothing happened for a few seconds. And then everything went black and he was back in the real world, falling into the lake. He acted quickly on reflex, whipping out his wand from his back pocket and shouting, "Accio Firebolt!"

The broom raced toward him. Harry caught it just as he sunk into the ice cold water. He wondered if brooms worked under water and to his surprise they did, only slower. Harry flew out of the water, dripping wet and shivering in the cold.

He flew back to the castle, his mind a tumble of confusion and terror filled memories of Tom Riddle.

He was so exhausted. All his bones ached and his head hurt terribly. He had the worst headache of his life. He trudged to Gryffindor tower, and said the password to the Fat Lady, "Phoenix Burning," and then he went straight to bed and slept and slept….

--------


	8. Chapter 8

HARRY OF THE SITH

TRIDENTWATCH

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE CLASH BETWEEN JEDI AND SITH

Darth Maul was not afraid of the Jedi. He was confident of his skills in defeating the Jedi, condfident of the training Sidieous had imparted upon him. But could he truly take on thirty jedi? Not without help. And he was lucky he had the two allies to help him, the two allies who knew who the real Sith Master of the galaxy was, Lord Voldemort, and who were loyal to the dark lord.

Darth Maul shivered in anticipation of the coming duel but he knew it would not be as easy as killing Qui Gon Jinn. These Jedi were elite, the best of the best as their success rate on dangerous missions proved. Their padawan links were the strongest and brightest in the universe, just like Obi Wan and Jinn.

But Darth Maul would defeat them. He would use strategy and cunning to do so, like how Lord Voldemort advised him to do. So he ordered Fett to gather his men and take them to the left side of the hanger bay, so as to cut off all access to the power generators that the Jedi might use to blow up the space station that was embedded in Tatooine's sands. He ordered Mara Jade to use her force skills and back him up as he battled the Jedi one by one.

He closed his eyes and sensed through the force that the Jedi were splitting into groups of two, Knight and Padawan, and were about to make a thurough search of the Hanger Bay of Jabba the Hutt. Darth Maul smiled to himself, this was too easy.

He suddenly felt a flare of pain erupt in his mind as Lord Voldemort reminded him that he was not Darth Maul any more, but Darth Challix.

"I will keep it in mind, sir," Darth Challix replied to Lord Voldemort's mental communications. "I am afraid that old habits die hard."

"If you return to your old name you will be punished," warned the sith lord and the contact was broken, leaving Darth Challix to fend for himself against the Jedi who were after him.

"We'll have to kill them all," Mara Jade said, her emerald eyes were as cold as ice and devoid of any emotion. "If one of them escapes they will inform the council and follow us to Lord Voldemort's secret location, which would be a disaster of magnimous proportions."

"I agree," Darth Challix said, "Come on then lets hunt the Jedi."

-----

Jedi Knight Lero was the best knight on the team, and was on the verge of becoming a master before a new mission popped up that required his special skills and abilities. The Sith that were believed to be extinct were now back and it was his job to hunt down those rogue monsters and bring them to justice.

He led a team of thirty jedi, including himself and his padawan Arawin Jaybright, who was a human with a mischevious twinkle always present in his eyes. At twenty years old, senior padawan Arawan was one of the best with the light saber and a devout follower of the jedi ways.

Lero trusted his padawan with his life. "Come padawan, we have a job to do." He had already ordered the other Jedi to split up with their padawans and begin the search… or as he termed it in his mind… the hunt.

He closed his eyes for a brief few minutes of meditation and remembered his home planet, a planet of vast tropical beauty surrounded by sandy beaches and friendly forests. He used to live in a cottage with his family, poor though they were they lived a happy yet simple life and he had known no hatred or anger in his life there.

He used to run a lot, he remembered, for hours and hours. It was his way of connecting with the force, and the force impulses he sent out into the galaxy brought the Jedi to his home, in secret.

They had observed him for many months before deciding that he would be fit for a padawan. Due to his unconscious training in connecting with the force just by the simple activity of running, he was fully qualified to begin training in the Jedi temple. His peace and serenity and his eagerness to dive deep within in his meditations attracted many Jedi masters to seek him, to teach him.

Jedi Knight Lero was prophecised to be the next Yoda in the upcoming years.

And Lero knew he would not fail this mission. The force was with him. He could hear its song singing in his ears, the dancing light of the force glistening in his heart and the deep peace and serenity invading his mind with his total and complete acceptance and permission.

The force told him this was a deciding point in the future of the galaxy. If he failed to capture that renegade Sith who had killed one of his dear friends, Obi Wan, and Qui Gon Jinn, he would fail the Jedi order. He would have to go into self imposed exile for his failure because he knew if he failed…. The Sith would win.

So he would not fail.

With a stony face he set out down the hallways of the hanger bay, his cheerful padawan eagerly following him.

------

Grindelwauld used his homemade wand to great effect. He rented an apartment in muggle London the first thing he did when he got there and he used his wand to create a space expansion charm on the inside of the apartment. He transfigured pebbles and twigs into great elaborate pieces of furniture, and he transfigured pieces of scrap paper into piles of muggle money. He had the jewlerry he had stolen with him also which he would use in Gringotts to get it refashioned into something a bit more magical… amulets. With amulets he would gather his followers, have them wear his amulets and that would ensure their loyalty, obedience, and increase in power.

Grindelwauld had big plans for the upcoming years, which included Harry Potter, Voldemort, and Dumbledore in turn. He was an old man true, but he was agile and young in body due to his potent magic.

He could do this, he thought, he could outsmart them all and come out as the victor finally… he could become king of England and then achieve his greatest dream… which was to wipe out the entire muggle race. It would be the greatest genocide since World War II, when Hitler had wiped out the jews. It was all Grindelwauld's work of course. The fool Hitler wouldn't have had as much success as he did without the backing of the powerful wizard.

Yes, thought the Dark Lord, the time for the ultimate genocide is near!

Filthy muggles, he thought as he murdered the landlord. "Avada Kedavra!"

------

Harry woke up with a pain in his scar. He screamed loudly and started thrashing involuntarily because he had just experienced a vision… a vision of Tom Riddle… and here he was awake and well rested in the hospital wing.

Madam Pomphrey had given him a few vials of dreamless sleep for his nightmares. He had stayed here for three days and he was sick of the infirmary. He was ready to leave.

He got up and when the nurse came to chastise him she stopped at his glare. She relented and let Harry go. Three days was long enough anyways.

Harry quickly ran to his bedroom and he pulled out his trunk, and rummaged through until he found what he was looking for. It was his birthday present from Sirius. It was a handheld mirror that would allow him to communicate with the high profile criminal… which was of course a ministry blunder that made Harry rage inside.

"Sirius Black," he said tapping his wand on the mirror.

Sirious's face appeared. Harry told him of what he had seen and asked his advice, knowing the other wizard had much more experience in magic, what with being an animagus and all which was one of the difficult feats of magic to accomplish. Sirius nodded at Harry's story at the right parts and cleared his throat finally. "Okay Harry, just relax, calm down…" Sirius said slowly as he racked his brain to figure out what to tell Harry.

"Ah I think I have a theory. I'll check with Moony to make sure but it probably has to do with your curse scar. That and you shared blood with the filthy half blood Voldemort," Sirius said, glaring into the air.

Harry nodded, "So you think there's a mental link between us or something? Is that why Dumbledore's making me learn occlumency?"

Sirius nodded, "That would explain it certainly. Who's teaching you?"

"Snape," Harry said, glaring, "Worst teacher ever, I wish you could teach me instead."

Sirius chuckled, "No I've never been much good at that. My animagus form gives me a natural shield obviously so I never bothered to learn. But I'll see if I can find some books for you in the Black library and owl them to you. They're probably illegal but who the hell cares anyways," Sirius said.

Harry grinned, "That's brilliant, Sirius, anyways give Moony my regards."

"Sure will," Sirius said, "How's the teaching with Dumbledore going?"

"Oh he's great," Harry said, his green eyes twinkling, "He shows me a new spell everyday, explaining it and everything. But since he's really busy I have to master the spell myself which takes up most of my day. I am going to see him now actually for another spell to learn. See ya Sirius."

Sirius said goodbye, and the mirror went blank. Harry carefully put it back in his trunk and walked at a slow pace to the headmaster's office. He stopped by a window to look at the rippling lake and felt a sensation of peace wash over him, just like when he did meditation or when he flew in the sky, totally free, or when he mastered a difficult spell. It was the sensation of triumph, of victory, of finally proving to the world that Harry Potter was not just some vagabound dirtbag like the Dursleys said, but that he was a somebody.

Harry blinked out of his reverie and continued toward Dumbledore's office. He knocked, entered and sat down. Dumbledore was immersed in his paper work. Harry helped himself to a handful of lemon drops. He was quickly beginning to like this candy. He popped one in his mouth and let the sour taste run all across his tongue.

Dumbledore looked up. "Do you mind if I see what happened in your mind Harrry?"

"So I'll have to lower my feeble occlumency shields for this?" Harry said, sighing. "Very well professor, but only because I trust you so much."

"Brilliant, Harry," Dumbledore said, and then continued in a grave voice, "I shall never betray your trust. I want to tell you something right now. I have an important piece of information in my possession that relates directly to you and Voldemort, which I shall impart to you when you have sufficiently mastered occlumency."

Harry blinked. "But why not right now?"

"I am afraid that if you haven't the right training in occlumency, Voldemort would just be able to read it from your mind and then we would lose a great advantage. So you must have patience and trust me, is that okay?"

"Yes Professor. Let's get this over with already." Harry gritted his teeth and lowered his shields. Dumbledore raised his wand, looking at Harry straight in the eye, and said Legiliemncy.

Harry felt the events of the last week run by him, even his conversation with Sirius. He hated being invaded like that, but he was glad it was Dumbledore at least because he could trust the old man.

Finally it was over, and it left Harry with a splitting headache. Harry popped a few more lemon drops.

"I don't think today is a good day to learn a new spell, Harry," Dumbledore said, "You are not ready."

Harry glared, "I think you should leave that up to me. I am ready sir. Please, teach me."

Dumbledore sighed, "The impatience of youth always astounds me. Very well, this new spell is a shield that will block most dark spells thrown at you. It is a golden circular shield that will help you protect yourself and those around you from death eaters firing curses at you."

"But it can't block the killing curse, right," Harry said, grumbling, "I wish there was a shield that did that."

"There is, Harry, your mother's love," Dumbledore said softly. He cleared his throat and continued on, showing Harry the wand movements and the incantation: "Expecto Hyba!"

A brilliant golden shield erupted from Dumbledore's wand. Harry's eyes widened in amazement.

"The key to this spell, like the patronus charm, is to think of happy thoughts, thoughts of protection and of maternal love. It requires patience to get the hang of. I'm sure it will keep you busy for quite a while."

Harry nodded, thanked the headmaster and left, eager to learn the newest spell the headmaster had shown him. He spent the rest of the day in the room of requirement, practicing.


	9. Chapter 9

HARRY OF THE SITH

TRIDENTWATCH

CHAPTER nine: HARRY'S NEW SPELL

"Expecto Hyba!" Harry yelled in the room of requirement. Only a faint wisp of golden light shot out of his wand. He groaned in frustration and tried again, panting hard as sweat rolled down his face and arms. "Expecto Hyba!"

This time the result was even less spectacular. Instead of the pure golden light of protection that Dumbledore's spell shot out, Harry's wand shot out only a trailing wisp of golden light intermingled with blue and yellow and a slight tinge of red, which Harry knew meant that there was anger in his spell.

Is that why my spell isn't working, Harry wondered, sitting down on a plush arm chair that immediately appeared upon Harry's mental asking of the room. He wished for a cup of tea and then he closed his eyes and sipped the tea, which was at a perfect temperature. As he sipped the tea, relaxing after the hour he had put in trying to master the spell he thought back to what Dumbledore said.

This was a light spell and like the patronus it was powered on feeling, on emotion, not on anger or hatred or frustration but on love and protection. I should get this, Harry thought, considering my own mother made the most powerful shield the world has ever seen.

Then suddenly an idea hit him, about his mother. She had powered her shield which had blocked even the avada kedavra curse using old magic. At least that was what Voldemort had said in the graveyard where he held Harry Potter at his mercy.

Old magic, what does that mean, Harry wondered as he looked fondly at his holly wood wand. It probably has something to do with emotions and perhaps…. Sacrifice? Lily had sacrificed her life for her son, powering the most potent shield in existence.

So maybe I have to sacrifice something for this spell to work? Harry wondered. No that couldn't be right. He didn't have to sacrifice anything for the expecto patronus charm to work so why this? He just didn't know what to do and was on the verge of going to Dumbledore to ask for more help but he stopped himself.

The old man is so busy running the war campaign which the public hasn't even acknowledged yet. He probably doesn't have time for a mere Hogwarts student and I've already bothered him so much, Harry thought to himself. As he sipped his tea he wondered what important information Dumbledore had about Voldemort and Harry that he couldn't share yet.

He mentally checked his shields. First he breathed in deep, in and out, and just focused on his breath to lull himself in a peaceful state. He meditated like that for fifteen minutes, the tea cup disappearing on his mental command and then he probed his mind using his magic. It was like when he had cast his first spell, so strange and miraculous to actually feel his mental world where he was the ruler, the supreme god. It gave him a sense of power, a sense of belonging, a sense of himself… Harry Potter… The Boy Who Lived… they were just names. When Harry looked at his mind through his magic his perspective changed. He was nothing, or rather he had no name. He was just himself, just a boy with no category he could attach himself to. In his meditation he found himself in a vast sky free of clouds with the harsh light of the sun shining down upon him. He focused, and went back to his occlumency shields, strengthening them around his thoughts, weaving them like thread around his memories, making walls and fortresses around his emotions, and when he came out of his meditation he was surprised to find two hours had passed. Time was sensed and perceived differently when in meditation, as Harry had learnt over the course of the month he had been staying in Hogwarts for and now, his occlumency shields were even better, perhaps enough to keep Snape from doing a quick scan through eye contact but he doubted his shields would be able to withstand the full brunt of a legilimency spell cast by a wand.

Harry sighed, and he wished for more tea which the Room happily provided. He sipped the tea, exhausted from his meditation while his thoughts whirled around what Dumbledore had told him. He remembered his lessons with Lupin about the Expecto Patronum spell. He had used his emotion. He had thought of his happiest memory, of winning at quidditch, of flying in the night and the charm had worked wonderfully. Now he had to think of something slightly different… of love and protection.

He closed his eyes and visualized the scene at Godric's Hollow, how his father had been brutally murdered at Voldemort's wand, how his mother had fled upstairs to the baby room in terror, taking him out of his crib, tears flowing down her face as she thought not of her survival but of her baby.

And then she faced the dark lord, terror filling her veins, terror not for her, Harry emphasized in his mind, but for her baby, for Harry Potter. It was the ultimate protection when she begged for his life, told the dark lord to take her instead.

This was old magic, blood magic at its finest and most potent. Harry opened his eyes, feeling the tears welling in his emerald eyes and he raised his wand, did the motion that Dumbledore had shown him and said in a hoarse voice, "Expecto Hyba!"

This time a feeling of utter joy spread through his body, tingling his skin and rushing euphoria down his veins. He felt light headed, and he felt like his body was flying. A brilliant plumage of gold and white rose out of his wand and surrounded him in a dome. The dome spread until it was at least six feet from Harry's feet to the edge of the dome, where golden light interspread with white and a sky blue twinkled like stars in the dark night. The glow of his shield astounded him. It was blinding.

Harry smirked. It was also powerful. He let the tears fall, because the tears powered his shield even more until the whites and the blues had disappeared leaving only a thick golden light for his shield.

Yes he had mastered this shield, this light sided magical shield that Dumbledore had taught him. The old man probably expected Harry to take weeks to master this spell but he had done it in only four hours.

He heard clapping. He let the shield die down, feeling a part of him that connected his soul to his mother's wane and disappear, but he knew it was still there deep inside him simply waiting patiently for him to call it out again.

He turned around, smiling and looked at the face of Dumbledore. The old man was proud of his student, of his protégé. He said the words that meant everything to Harry.

"Good show, my boy," Dumbledore said, a grandfatherly twinkle shining in his eye and a half smile growing under his half moon glasses.

Harry grinned back in return.

----------

Is anybody even reading this? Come on review people cuz I am so discouraged about this fic right about now… 10 reviews? Bah…


	10. Lord

CHAPTER TEN

HARRY OF THE SITH

"LORD VOLDEMORT'S MEDITATION ROOM"

The sky darkened considerably as the death eater named Peter Pettigrew jogged up a rolling grass covered hill. The grass was tall and reached his knees, but it was not like normal grass to peter. It hurt him, scratched at his robes like it was a living thing. And of course Peter had to watch out for the snakes infesting the unnatural grass hill. The hill was at least a mile long that Peter had to walk upward to reach Voldemort's hideout. He hated the hill the most, because always there was at least a snake or two who would bite him despite his bearing the mark, which should have afforded him some protection but did not.

He wondered if other death eaters had the same difficulty and putting some thought into it – what else could he do as he was torturing himself running to his master through a barrier meant for his enemies? – he decided that yes other death eaters faced the same difficulty… because the master was merciless. Lord Voldemort did not tolerate weaklings and he punished those lacking in power.

Looking at his silver hand, Peter felt a shiver of pleasure run up his spine as he thought, "He rewards those who help him, aid him in his plans… I wonder what my next reward will be? I should perform a mission really well… perhaps get one of Harry's friends for him tied up?"

Lord Voldemort valued initiative, especially in the one month of his resurrection where he barely ever saw his death eaters. He was holed up in his cave utop the hill. It was a gargauntuan cave, as huge as the cavernous chamber of secrets or the great hall of Hogwarts. It was obviously expanded with magic.

Peter reached the top of the hill with his feet bloody and a snake bite – luckily he had an all purpose antidote on hand that he had injested – turning purple on his left thigh. There was the cave, shrouded in shadows. The entrance to it was very small, fit only for a small man to crawl through, but of course Lord Voldemort wanted to stay hidden.

And Peter suspected other entrances for Voldemort's inner circle, because when he reached the interior of the cave, the other death eaters looked clean and calm, especially Lucius.

Malfoy was a rich spoiled brat, thought Peter, but he was strong, a good dueller. A pureblood through and through, in mannerisms and power. He was everything Peter wanted to be, everything Peter ever wanted – class, fame, power, money, beautiful concubines – Malfoy had everything, Peter thought bitterly.

Lord Voldemort sat on his throne, a simple green armchair that belied his greatness. He was not one for dramatics… not often anyways. He wore black robes, and his wand twirled in his white skeleton fingers that were unnaturally long, Peter thought with a shudder.

"Peter, nice of you to join us," Severus said silkily, "The summons was twenty minutes ago. How punctual of you."

Peter glared at his childhood nemesis, who had tortured him throughout his Hogwarts days because he had been the weakest maurader, the weakest link in the chain that started at the top with James and Sirius and ended with him on the bottom. He was always on the bottom. But James was dead, Sirius a criminal, Remus… well who cared about a werewolf? They had given him a gift… training in animagus formation… which Peter had used to his advantage many times in his life.

But Peter was Peter and if he was a little bit more intelligent he would have ran away from the dark lord… he would have hidden himself as the secret keeper and never have betrayed the Potters.

Because Voldemort was merciless… he barely distinguished between allies and enemies.

"Crucio," Severus intoned lazily, his wand pointed at Peter.

Peter fell to the floor screaming his head off in pain, pain that flooded his senses, blinded him to the cruel smirk on Lucius's face or the mad joy lighting in Severus's eyes, or the cold dead look on Voldemort's face.

The curse stopped.

There was silence, and Voldemort said to all, "Kneel."

All fourteen death eaters who had been summoned kneeled at once, knowing beyond doubt that if they showed the slightest hesitation they would be tortured in the worst ways possible.

Lord Voldemort never used curses to torture. His tortures were more subtle. He would only use curses to those blockheaded death eaters who could understand little else but power.

No, Voldemort tortured subtly, like how he gave Draco a gift when Lucius had failed him.

The gift was a necklace, which Draco eagerly wore and he was plagued throughout his summer with nightmares of the worst sort.

For a young man it was life scarring and Lucius had to watch helplessly as his son suffered for his failures.

Voldemort said, "My followers, my eager death eaters… We are going to have a visitor soon from another world. He will be powerful… and we will use him…"

Peter looked up in confusion. Big mistake. He fell again, a victim to the crucio curse but it was far more painful… Voldemort hadn't even pointed his wand at him as Peter screamed.

It was a warning to the other death eaters.

A warning that they heeded well. Nobody looked up even though they were confused.

"I need to help this visitor in a battle, in another world… so I need sacrifices, human sacrifices for a ritual to be performed in this very hall."

Voldemort's voice echoed as he said, "I need a thousand muggles, or two hundred witches or wizards. It is your choice. I need them within the week and if you fail me…" The threat was left hanging in the air, almost a solid fog of terror.

"Rise."

They rose, bowed, left.

Peter and the others met up in Lucius's manor and planned their mission well. It was almost impossible.

But they would do it anyways.


	11. Chapter 11: Of Darkness and Evil

Chapter Eleven - Of Darkness and Evil

The muggle flat he stayed in was fine, okay but not luxurious not as rich as he had lived in before, before his time in prison. But the flat that he stayed in now would suffice and would meet the needs he had set for himself. He had three goals in muggle london, get his old followers back together, get some financial amounts to fund his new war against Dumbledore and the ministry, and most important of all find out all he could about Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.

So we have new players in town, he thought to himself with a challenging grin. He knew they would be no match for him. He was the true dark lord, and knew ancient magic, arcane magicks that nobody - save for Albus, once his best friend, now his worst enemy - knew of.

He wondered about Albus a lot, as he was after all Grindelwauld's best friend, and perhaps he still was. They had good times together, fun times, and Grindelwauld was too well disciplined to fall into the trap of the dark arts, let the arts consume his soul. No, he had a quick mind, and a conscience as well and so what if he used the dark arts? That did not make him evil, only different.

Voldemort was evil, Grindelwauld thought, using horcruxes, that was just madness. One cannot use that sort of alien magic and remain sane, remain human. Voldemort was a monster, a rabbid dog to be shot down and killed, exterminated. And Grindelwauld was just the man for the job. After he killed the dark lord he would be a hero, everyone would respect him and his rise to power would be quick as lightning. Then he could start to work on his anti muggleborn agenda.

Fuck the mudbloods, he thought viciiously, holding a glass of expensive red wine in his hand as he stood on his balcony. It overlooked muggle london from a vast height. He threw the glass on the road below him in rage. They ruined my world, he thought, dirtied what was once pure.

He was a pureblood.

He would fight for his heritage, fight for his rights, and people would flock to him. They would come to him, hear his call and come, willing to serve, willing to obey him out of love, and devotion.

Not fear. He was not a Voldemort.

He was dark, yes, but not evil. There was a difference, and Grindelwauld would show it to the world, show the world how and why he was so unjustly imprisoned.

But first he had to contact his old friends and followers, who might or might not have moved on to other things, moved on to serving Voldemort. If they did he would give them one chance to change their ways and if they did not they would have to die. There was nothing he could do for it. Voldemort needed to be exterminated, and all those who would protect him, the death eaters.

Yes, contact the old flock, he thought, contact them. But how? He knew nothing about the wizarding world. He was as ignorant and fresh as a babe. He would have to disguise himself. Did he have a wand?

He looked around, where was his wand?

He felt so confused.

So lost, so alone.

He wished Albus was here. Albus would know what to do.

He shook his head, what's wrong with me? He thought angrily. Have I lost my mind? Perhaps my years in prison has rattled my sanity.

It couldn't be, he thought.

It scared him, to go insane would be a disaster, no, it could not be.

But it is, said a voice in his mind, a mocking voice filled with malice and hate. You have succumbed to the dark side, don't you know, come join me.

"Who are you?" Grindelwauld whispered in the darkness. The night air was frigid and cold.

"You may call me Darth Challix," said the voice in his mind, "Come join me, join Voldemort, together we shall rule-"

"No!" He snarled, and used his mental shields, occlumency shields, to throw the intruder out of his mind with all the force he could.

His mind cleared. He could think again.

He looked around, and sighed, such changes had come to the world. Would he be good enough to help the world, to change it himself for the better? He did not know, but he knew that for the greater good he would try his best, sacrifice everything he had.

Because everything he did was out of compassion, for the greater good, not for himself, not for selfish reasons. The mudbloods had to go out of the wizarding world, which must stay pure, pure blooded.

Couldn't Albus see that?

"No, he cannot," Grindelwauld said to himself to the night air. He did not have a wand but he would get one, get a disguise too and go to Diagon Alley. Today. Right now.

He went, fled as swiftly as he could as if he was as thin as air. His innate magic might have boosted his speed. As he travelled to the Leaky Cauldron, his mind whirled and analyzed as quickly as the water falling down a water fall. It was inevitable. If he went as he was he would get caught, and without a wand he would have a hard time defending himself. He would have to disguise himself somehow in the muggle world.

He came across as store selling wigs, and he bought a bright red wig, so he looked like a haggard man with red hair.

That was enough, it would suffice until he could steal a wand from a wizard. Steal, not borrow, not buy. He would have to steal.

He hated that, hated being reduced to such filth, such a low level, and he would make Albus pay for this, because it was Albus's fault that he was here like he was, powerless.

But free, and as such, life was good. With a grin, and a wondering smile, he walked into the Leaky Cauldron.

Looked around, the people were scared.

Good wizards scared of their shadow. The thought angered him, how their prides were taken from them by Voldemort. This should not happen, should not happen like this. Mudbloods had to go, perhaps by force, but gently.

Gently push them out.

He used the dark arts only as a means to an end, to destroy greater wizards than he.

Not as a way to torture, to kill, to cause pain. That was not right, that was not the way of the Light.

For in the end, he was a Light Wizard, just like Albus Dumbledore.

Only he acknowledged the power of the darkness, of the shadow, and thus accepted the mantle of Dark Lord. For both were needed, Light and Dark, and together, only together could they hope to create a better world.

If only Albus understood that, Grindelwauld thought.

It made him very sad, because they were the best of friends, as close as could be. Almost family. The tragedy that happened to Albus's family was a mistake on his part. He should not have made it.

And perhaps he had to accept blame too, for the mistakes he made. He had many times succumbed to the dark arts, many times tortured and felt glee and happiness, rage and bloodthirst.

But he towered over it, and fought it, and won.

He was not evil.

He was justice, truth, and harmony intertwined into a weapon that used every one of its capabilities.

****

"What are your plans, my lord?" Darth Challix asked, kneeling before Lord Voldemort in a dark cave, as big as the chamber of secrets perhaps. A snake hissed nearby. Darth Challix felt out with the force, and felt Voldemort's spirit - or a part of it - reside within that creature, that noble creature.

His new lord was far better than his old one, much more powerful, more ruthless, more open.

Everything Darth Challix was, except better, faster, stronger.

"Have you made contact with Grindelwauld?" Voldemort asked after a few moments of silence, his words a cold hiss.

"Yes, he refused as you predicted, but the effort was well worth the reward for I have gleaned some interesting information."

Voldemort stayed silent. Darth Challix took that as assent to continue. "He is alone and powerless, does not even have a wand. He is staying in muggle london right now, and he plans to call together his old followers. I tried to re-enter his mind after he threw me out but he is too well shielded."

"It would only have worked once," Voldemort said, "The way you wield magic is deadly, a weapon, but a weapon of surprise above all. There are shields to weapons, all save one, or so I thought. Even the deadliest most invincible weapon can be stopped, and so balance resides in all."

"Balance, that is what the jedi say, what they think of the Force."

"They are partly right," Voldemort said, "Your Jedi - those who oppose the Sith - have a flawed understanding and their weakness reflects that."

He stood up, and held his wand in the air. A warm blue glow erupted from it, covering the cave in its light. Darth Challix shuddered.

This was pure power, he thought, smirking, pure power incarnate. I have made the right decision coming here to this backwater planet.

"There is no good or evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it."

Voldemort's red eyes bored deep into Darth Challix's gaze, until he felt as if all his thoughts, emotions and life were bared open for his Lord's study. He let it happen, allowed his mind to be ripped open. Memories rushed on the forefronts of his mind, and he savored the fact that he was useful to the Dark Lord.

And he would continue to be useful all his life. There was no other, no stronger. He would never reach his Lord's level. The force screamed at him, whispered at him, to serve this man, this harbringer of doom. Together they would destroy the universe, and then rebuild it.

And then rule it.


End file.
